The Greyest Flame

My dahlic wound, a lotic tear, a sullen heart, a ferric spear.
And volume waves, asearch the soul, a fountain flame, the
Grief of gold. My dahlic shrine, adrift the hells, a humble
Heart, a thousand tales. And mystic joy, a lotic tear, a spirit
Flight, a gift to hear. My dahlic maze, a cello soft, the
Wings of verse, a vision lost. And tribe to heart, the rites of
Life, a fantast dream, a fractured light. For white to black,
A phantom grey, a vision vague, the voice of fey.

My dahlic wound, a lotic tear, a sullen heart, a ferric spear.
And torn aflame, the hue of love, the bliss of pang, the
Face of blood. For soul to kiln, a throbbin’ ache, the burn
Of death, the breath of fate. And motion sore, the chant of
Sound, a feral wolf, a hollow ground. For white to black,
A phantom grey, a vision vague, the voice of fey.   

Ferric: of or relating to iron.
Dahlic: an adjective for dahlia.