Mystic Pain

Such affliction, the tears of flame, the gilt of soul, the spirit
Slain. And rapture wings, afloat the waves, the voice of Om,
The hoist of pangs. And zenic flare, adrift the kiln, the breath
Aflight, the zest to feel. And spear to veil, a cryptic flash, the
Ghost of light, the pulse of ash. But pearl to storm, the whirl
Of grief, the growth of soul, the reign of peace. And arc to pain,
Aflare the curse, the tare of blight, a cultic hearse. Thus the
Fantast, torn aflame, a clone of Christ, and mystic pain.

Such affliction, the tears of pang, the gilt of soul, the spirit
Slain. And phantom born, a fulgent scar, the tint of bliss, the
Kiss of stars. And yogic death, the kef of flight, the breath of
Faith, the growth of sight. And gale to heart, the dart of flesh,
The thresh of light, the soul to wrest. Thus the fantast, torn
Aflame, a clone of Christ, and mystic pain.