I Die to Love a Phantom

My stoic joy. My secret saga. I’m a fantast, a fallen prayer,
Enlove with a phantom. Thus my trestle stained with tears.
For love, a vague veil, a shallow aperture, whereby a
Glimpse inflames the soul. And windfall, my grayish prayer,
If only to taste the passion. Thus gravid, aflame the temple,
I perish. But fate, a fluid stream, chastises death. Thus
Adrift, a flaming soul, ere my phantom. Hence alive, a fallen
Prayer, my heart!

I die to love a phantom—my soul, drenched in blood. And
Spirit, a tacit storm. But love—the cries of my phantom.
Thus conflicted, my soul; and afflicted, my heart; for love,
A bleeding rose. And light, dim and dusky, a fallen prayer.
But I die to love a phantom, alive in my dreams.