Risen Sky

The sky has risen, my soul; but sullen the heart of joy.
The flame, a crystal—a lambent star. My trestle, a mass of
Thetic thorns, a host of unborn tears. I ponder ripples, 
Heeding fables. Something so delicate, fraught with
Horror; and something so heartless, blessed with love. Such
Waves, a vibrant curse; and such flames, a tinge of death.

The sky has risen, my soul; but sullen the heart of joy.
And my love, a mantra pearl: my muse, a russet rose. We
Drift eternal, an opus flame. And my locket, a beating heart:
My soul, a precious swan. And we soar, a vision free; and
We float, a rhythm soft; and we cry, a spirit storm.

The sky has risen, my soul; but sullen the heart of joy.
And my hope, a blatant smile; and my love, a privy wave.