For like the wheel of torture, you are the cynosure of my eyes
Like the stelliferous skies I cannot wrench my gaze from pain
For like vessel and flesh I absorb the fire of my imminent demise
The sun of my bygone glory fades, beyond a horizon I cannot obtain
For the wounds of memory are the spikes that sunder flesh,
Crunch the bones of my ascetic mind lingering lofty amid the clouds
As my heart pumps its ruby red streams of defiance, against the mesh
Of encroaching death already bedecked in ceremonial gilded shrouds
I have the knife and the grim reaper, the grave with the wilted flowers
I have the sunless heavens hanging like a lid waiting to be ripped apart
I am the transcending oath of the ages that the breath of wisdom empowers
Pumping melancholy into a bleeding soul, with a weeping broken heart
I am closer to the door of death than to the sunlight on mortal strands
Beatific sky bountiful in its joy, my soul is errant in forbidden waters of thought
For though sorrows stains and passions wield the merciless brands
I wade through the collective oceans of immortal woe, immovably distraught
Like the trilling voices of remembrance my breath shall be the frosted air
My bones shall bleach beneath the sun, ageless as the mountains holding earth
For beyond even torment is the release, the transmigration of soul beyond despair
As from the jagged teeth of hell you are spat out in an initiatic rebirth
I have the dreams of angels and the tears of the countless stars cradled in my hand
Lighting my way through infinity as it sails across boundless lakes of void
Till I am nothing but an extinguished spark and my crumbled bones are naught but sand
I shall not the mystic wonders of the deep elude, nor their glory avoid
If my soul ever breaks free to wear the swirling nebulae as a crown
I am the daughter of the mother of all things, all things hallow in her name
She who mourns her countless children, whose tears light up her spangled gown
Nothing is ever lost, nor is the bruised earth to blame…
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