Motion’s Flame

I mumbled mercy—and died a vision. My resurrection—so

Subtle. Complete the miracle, my flaming heart. And death—

So gentle—my harshest love. Awake the attic, my precious

Swan. Indeed, trek the thinnest line—preserve soul. And

Dearest friction—we die so freely—learn to live. My sorest

Mystery—I pledge a miracle—and stars to rise. Inflate the

Sorrow: exhaust the phantom. For something—so vicious—

Breathes the heart—of something—so gentle. My precious

Swan—the grey is majesty; and black and white, a sheer

Deception. Infuse the earth: extract the color; and soar the

Waves. Indeed, trek the thinnest line—preserve love. And

Desert tears, a phantom tree; and thus the future. My never

Love, the nights are ghosts—a crying heart. And dare the

Music—a rising flame.