The Rapture of Love

Such innocent eyes: they speak of dreams. And she longs to
Conquer death. Pain is seismic rapture; and love is cryptic
Music. We dance immortal, our souls bleeding life. And she
Appears, tiptoeing visions. I’m at a distance, longing for
Freedom. Her approach, a mystic touch: her love, a cultic
Dream. We fall, aflame in our rapture: we rise, fraught with
Magic. Death is segue—we perish unto light; and life is
Segue, we love unto death.

She sparks the darkness, a sleepless flame. And she burns to
Conquer life. Love is mystic rapture; and heart is cryptic
Music. We live immortal, our souls soaked in blood. And she
Appears, trespassing visions. I’m alive, lost in myth: I’m dead,
Adept to sin. And we rise, the ache of heaven; and we love,
The pulse of life.