I Perish—Our Resurrection

Such emotion—a ferric muse: I perish—our resurrection.
And such fire—a storm of waves. My koan, a treble soul:
We dine, alive a fallin’ well. My eyes, a woman’s
Love; and perish—our resurrection. Awaken glory,
Heaven burns; and torrent flame, a spirit smile. My zenic flare—
Alert the scars; and fairest rose, a mind’s mirage. In truth,
The love, a cactus thorn; and burning heart, a fear alarm.
My omic wave, a spoken joy; and mystic air, a faint goodbye.
But treasure vision, an attic film; and privy soul, a sphinxly
Grim. My glory soft, a ghostly wind, and fancy heart, a
Sullen den. And cryptic flame, a psyche turn, a passion ache,
A mother’s urn. Indeed the light, a cultic war, a painful joy,
A myrtle core. For mystic touch, a faceless cry, a wailing
Torch, a zenic eye.