Tectonic Flame

Such a windfall, this mystic flare; and such is love, a voiceless
Glare. My wistful soul, it flits the earth, a sculpted dream,
A bless-ed curse. Such tragic tales, my astral flame, the birth
Of prose, and faceless pain. And key to stone, my pensive
Heart, alive and dead, and torn apart. But precious tears, flame
The spirit, a glimpse of truth, adrift the lyric. And soul to scar,
My vibrant love, the ache of God, and doctrine drums. Sound
The vision, my bright amore, and feel the pulse, a hundred score.

For heart to flame, the specter born; a silent prayer, a woven thorn.
And light to soul, my fallen sky, a trumpet war, a need to die. But
Deep within, a hidden smile, a fervent storm, a mystic trial. Thus
The fantast, a spoken dream, a waking star, a silent scream. And
Life to love, my welkin flame, a broken soul, my heart to blame.
And light to God, my ardent prayer, a touch of myth, and cultic flare.