Upon the Wings of Flame

Vex not the heart, my tender love, but render bliss, my
Precious dove. Else I perish, the deepest slum, the ache of
Grief, the peak of glum. Such chemic flare, the pulse of
Flame, my well beloved, is unrestrained. Thus we venture,
To soar the clouds, to seize the love, aloft the wild. And
Heart to soul, forbid the pain, unlock the dream, the stream
Of flame. Plus the vision, a living shrine, a golden torch,
A sacred rhine.    

Vex not the heart, my tender love, but render bliss, my
Precious dove. Lest the future, a tragic fate, the darkest
Blight, at sorrow’s gate. But tears to love, my gracious swan,
My dashing pride, too near to fawn. And light to God, we
Dare to rise, to walk the flame, to touch the skies. Hence the
Vision, a living shrine, a golden torch, a sacred vine.