My Tear Amore

I thought of love, my tear amore, a fabric scar, a sagic sore.
Such abandon, the pulse of lust, a fiber rich, a ghostly gust.
And reckless flair, the kiln aflame, a dragon spear, that near
To pain. And burden love, the art of wings, an omic wave,
A verse to glean. My tear amore, redeem the soul, the pith 
Of love, the drums of gold. For scythe to heart, a wound
Aflare, a fruitage scar, a voiceless prayer. Thus forbidden,
A trystic feat, the fleet of ghost, a pain discreet.         

I thought of love, my tear amore, a fabric scar, a sagic sore.
Such esthetic, the wave of love, the zest of flame, alight the
Dove. Thus the friction, ablaze the heart, to reap the stream,
The dream of art. And near the edge, the wings of flight, the
Surge of flare, the tare of light. Thus forbidden, a trystic feat,
The fleet of ghost, a pain discreet.