Mandala

Candles flicker in the dark; and incense swirls into a gem.
We journey symbols and venture waves—a silent chant.
Something glitters, a living myth; and something flames,
An outward soul. She spoke of woes and winter clouds—

And tore the wind, a mystic flare. I watched and grew; and
Grew and watched; and heart to curse—a curse to heart.
The wound is soft, a flaming bridge; and vessels fall, a
Tragic tear. I dare to breathe, a flight of ghosts; and grip a

Star; and stir the pulse. And saints and gods roam the soul,
A wealth of jewels and cultic scrolls; and thus the rise, a
Sullen gaze: a war of locks and wisdom pangs. We grind
And climb; and climb and grind: a tier of woe: a pier of
Time; and spell to mind, the mind of spells: a tense affair,
A maze of hells.