Cryptic Pang

Suffuse the light, my gothic vim: awake the joy, my phantom
Grim. For penchant love, a tunnel blind, a palace pain, a
Vault divine. And friction flame, a heavy heart, the volts of
Hell, a phoenix lark. And thus ablaze, the cave of sin, the
Flute of fey, a florid den. My vivid ghost, a private tear, a
Privy smile, a passion dear. But fantast flame, a floral dream,
A pail of prose, a phantom scream. And thus the vox, a
Sullen sore, a cryptic pang, a secret war.

Suffuse the light, my gothic vim: awake the joy, my phantom
Grim. For trenchant prose, afflict the soul, the wings of death,
A frenzy gold. My broken flame, a flicker soft, a violent
Torch, a vision lost. And thus aflare, a dual force, a fluid flint,
The wildest horse. And torn aflame, a cryptic heart, a sullen
Soul, a cultic arc.  
 

Penchant: passion; a strong desire for something. 
Vox: voice.