Ruptured Soul

My ruptured soul, a flood of ghosts, a diamond light, a feral

Pulse. The myth is life, a mystic arm, a fathom deep, the

Girth of charm. And precious heart, a floret rain, a spirit

Scar, a freshet pang. But gift to God, a garret vow, the

Blood of prayer, a humble brow. My fervent ache, a

Ruptured soul, a razor walk, the hearth of prose. And

Bleeding sore, a precious star, a muted breath, a death

Ajar. [….] My ruptured soul, a flood of ghosts, a diamond

Light, a feral pulse. The private pain, a public life, the air of 

Blood, a wisdom bright. And daisy heart, the morning

Dawn, a magic sea, a muted swan. But gift to God, an

Ardent pang, a biblic wound, a sullen reign. For ruptured

Soul, a precious life, a florid mind, a stifled light. And pain

Adrift, a fractured core, the pride of fate, a tragic war.