This morning I died.
Earth abruptly ceased, carrying me to my end.
Solace of the pomegranate
Scented air captured me completely.
The dime-sized wound trickled
A crimson essence so pure it must be heaven.
A blinding light crept towards me as
I ascended from my deathbed, deprived of roaming aimlessly.
My existence drifts afar from saintly.
The frigid wind engulfs me whole.
The brittle desert crumbles beneath my feet.
While mourning a desolation I never coveted
The most astonishing sight slithers towards me.
Ravishing young angel with you burning wings,
Who are you?
My sweet Artemis sings me the most delighted, forgotten hymns
As her icy hand intertwines with mine.
We revisit Babylon's old ruins,
Troy's eternal tears, and a blackened New York
That I am all familiar of.
Of which creation emerges the simplest ambiguity?
"Arise from your stupor," sings my beloved.
Burning profusely, I live again.