Breathe

The spirits speak of sickness. I speak of love. And Canaan
Plead repentance. Thus the soul, a silent sign; and thus the
Heart, a psalmic prayer. My ancient ‘nite, a wolverine; and
Sulfur light, a need to pause. Why the war? Was beauty so
Magnificent? Can’t love imagine a healing sword? I dare die,
If only to resurrect; and spirits run amuck. Listen to the
Silence. It dances flame; and thus the walk, a brilliant scar.
[Pause] My soul, a sagic friend; and thus the pang. [Pause]
Evolve alike, and trek the trail. Else the mud, a vocal storm.
[Selah] I’m so alive, a mystic born, alert to frantic fear. But
Tragic birth, a fortune star, and destined blood, a bleeding
Faith. My attic burn, in need of life, for present ark, a
Sphinxly tomb. And knighted flare, a passion wish, adrift a
Desperate gloom.