Sol

I drift,
pushed by song of muse,
stretched, mind and limb
'till I fade, hers is only a ruse.

Soul strings, gently pricked
make noises, only for me to hear.
a Mutism, born of wish
to YELL
that which cannot be uttered.
so my Soul remains, trapped in clamor.

I drift,
in the company of Lights,
a Black Canvas will swallow me whole,
but Sol, She watches
She beckons,
She pulls,
She casts her light and warmth.

A sterling Bliss,
A Crescendo,
A Roaring Flame,
I let it ignite me,
Shortly I turn to cosmic dust,
Back to origins.

Better to have burned and died, and again rekindle,
Than to have been swallowed frozen.