Skyfire/Skysoul

Why so present, this small rapture, as making enquiries; this universal, as quite aware—that one sings to glory; those plural heartbeats, as deep communion—our souls that cadence of war; that inner volume, so dear to life, as creeping towards travesties; at best by love, this casual chit-chat, to invoke The Spirit. (We’re craving majesty, someone that fathoms, as to bear witness to glitter: that thumping soul; that lucid shift; this art by wills that fire); to dance through silence, or more that substance, at tears, that repeated history; by rays a myth, to enter by stealth, as pumping upward that arc; those inner screams, this cinema of cults, this whisper your thoughts; as ever to love, this powerful force, this furnace by temperature. I grope for distance, this intimate charm, a bit glib with thoughts; as reeling humility, responding as reckoned, that space in brains our linchpins; to wire wickedness, attracted to dangers, at woes to ignore deception; as what for life, to gesture so warmly, as forced to retreat: those hoary hells, this flute by virtues, in chase of hunches: this devious light, as torn to digest—this fist of furious fevers; where love is cold, as pure analysis, as losing parts of self; to channel by substance, this lack of fire, as to become an enormous sanctuary: that far-gone dream, as becoming a goddess, while head to heels a bit pretentious; but still to favors, this contract with spirits, as delving deeper into Yahweh; this infinite style, as a meteor favorite, radiating in stillness that motion: this field of memories, akin to slaughters, but a glint those elders those teachings: this inner cello; that precious wisdom; as more those actions at deaths his childhood; to move with grace, faced with terrors, wiser than several generations; as poignant souls, our bands of glory, even that minor warfare; as more constructed, while pumping arcs, to rid that cultist his dreams; for danger lurked, that shadow of madness, to provoke by witness that person. It takes for life, this frontline battle, at devotions that inner woman; to know as many, those mystic spirits, at forces to manipulate our cosmos.