Such Abstract Art

Such abstract art: such hidden prose. And heart to light, my
Gothic rose. My modern love, adhere to signs, and feel the
Pulse, of love divine. Else we perish, a rhythmic death, lost
To terror, afraid of breath. And Doric shrines, my cryptic
Scar, the depth of art, my mythic bars. Thus the ocean, our
Solemn prayer, a mystic face, upon the air. And depth the
Soul, symbolic praise, indie music, and cultic caves. Hence
The heart, a flood of dreams, fraught with bane, and epic screams.

Aesthetic love, palatial fear, endure the flame, and hold it dear.
Else we perish, and suffer heart, a dragon’s tale, and torn apart.
My modern love, amaze the stars, infuse the clouds, that muse
Afar. And death to life, my scribbled prose, aflame the gold, of
Mystic souls. Thus we flourish, adorned in strife, fraught with
Panic, the gems of light.