The Desert’s Fading Soul

Dieth by me beautiful woman,
Or, fearful purity hide thine eyes.
Despite sunsetting chills
Thy flesh don’t yield likewise.
To face in Hell’s scorching flames,
Or Heaven’s heavy stars,
Skin, in spite, ever radiates.
Tho’ wounds shan’t grow scars.

Such pity that God not bestow
Sand to burn, to fuel our coals.
For between the dunes: it is all,
All we have to save our souls.
So lay next to me in the dust,
Methinks it will be soon.
Hold mine hand to watch the sun,
Will we not witness the setting moon?

Sely complexity thou art,
Rest thy head next to mine.
And when I breathe thine air;
I will know thy heart be divine.
Mine eyes can’st not preserve
From the dying flame, any or all
Except angel eyes, glowing,
Not too big nor too small.

But who art thou who ceases when senses doth,
Who art thou to dieth by my side?
Could I not manifest a priest,
To confess my sins and all that’s inside?
My fear conquers the gates to my body, 
Tho’ I will not let it into my mind.
Thou out-ranketh even bishop in soul,
Thy hands ease the pain I leaveth behind.

O what delicate creation is thou.
Thy world is mine, live whilst I live.
But I must die now.