Mystic Pulse

A tacit voice, a subtle wave, a rapture born, a prophet’s cave.
And light to flame, my fetching scar, my tribal soul, my
Pulse afar. And passion tears, a bleeding creek, the murk of
Love, a mystic peak. Plus the vision, the stream of blood,
A vault of cries, and crescent drums. And depth the soul, a
Limbic dream, a forest prayer, a zenic scream. Thus the
Fallen, a sacred scroll, a rising flare, a soaring soul. And life
To God, redeem the earth, awake the pain, my bless-ed curse.

For precious heart, the path of Christ, and wisdom eye, the
Gift of light. And sudden flame, invokes the wind, a
Skyward glance, a mystic glen. Plus the passion, the fount
Of yore, the life of death, a bleeding core. And blood to soul,
A cultic fane, the breath of tears, and cryptic bane. Hence
The Spirit, inflames the soul, the truth of light, and omic stone.