Fate Favors the Strong

Afire, this burning passion—a florid vision—utter infusion.
My love, an angelic heartstring, ecstatic imperfection. But
Such ache, the perfection of love, aflame a fervent soul.
And her voiceprint, alters intuition, streaming through the
Flames. I dare picture love, the mandolin of dreams, a
Wounded veil. For a tender touch, shatters iron, and captures
Spirit. But tug-of-war, this incantation, piercing the soul.
Thus heartache burns, inflicting the psyche, etching visions.
My love, a flaming symbol, sunlight of eternity. In her midst,
I tremble, adrift a volcano. For unworthy, this foul fantast,
Tempting fate. Thus I fall, the dance of dreams, afloat a
Treasured kiss. But love, the wound of glory, a season of
Miracles. Wherefore symbol, moves the soul, an ardent
Earthquake. Thus fate, a fickle spirit, favors the strong.