Phantom Love

Never was there born a deeper love. It triumphs over darkness:
A windfall in the heart of madness. Such the keystone of light,
Dancing upon electric particles. It’s a mystic daydream,
Permeating a mystic conclave. It’s the kernel of heartache; the
Signpost of passion: such as nails driven through flesh! Take
Not a mallet to my soul; drive not a thorn through my skull;
Rather adorn the castle in gold; for this gravid love is a
Blissful nightmare. Oh the tragedy of such love, where the
Spirit mourns its creation; and still, the Spirit praises its
Creation: such confliction, the path of light. And dusky
Visions, paint the psyche in screams, where recompense is death.
Oh the tragedy of such love; the abyss of such love; as vivid as
Newborn grief. Thus the phantom, alive in its mystery, flaming
The spirit. And the nectar of eternity is its mystic love.