I Love the Flame

I love the flame, the arc of life, the wind and rain, the torch
Of Christ. For depth the plight, a mystic frame, a booklet
Tear, a Bishop pang. My rising faith, a stone to blood, a
Walking Ghost, a prayer to bud. And dancing grave, a sullen
Chant, a ripple deep, a sea to pant. My tethered pride, afflicts
The death, the fringe of war, my sore address. And pain to
Love, a dying art, a subtle shame, a vibrant ark. But frantic
Heart, aflare the flame, despite the death, the passion reigns.

I love the flame, the arc of life, the wind and rain, the torch
Of Christ. For dead alive, a cryptic trance, an oaken cross, a
Cultic glance. My feathered wing, a partial fate, an ontic
Strife, a zealot trait. And candent cry, a lambent prayer,
A forest wail, a sagic flare. But frantic heart, aflight the flame,
Despite the death, the passion reigns.