Passing the Flame

Love,
You are the light of a thousand stars,
Peeking through the sheet of darkness
That stretches for miles between them.
Love,
I saw you and before I could protest,
My heart threw out reason
Like a useless line of poetry.
Love,
When I whisper your name
From the bowels of the night,
I am rewarded with a brilliant dawn.
And love,
You have left me… forsaken.

The final strokes have been beaten
And our one heart untangles.
I am left alone,
My torn drum pulsing into darkness,
My very veins
Empty of all grace.
The only light in me
Reflects off bits of the mirror
I shattered in my anger.
The only entity here is blackness.

After lines of trying have
Wound their way around and around
My tired face, will I see
Love
As a wind-whipped survivor,
Haunting the day and blessing the night;
The plague that electrifies
And then leaves behind the greatest emptiness
Besides the greatest fulfillment.
It has mixed my blood and tears with soil
To grow a prickly garden of chords,
Singing different songs
That disturb the night.

So when I finally turn to sleep,
I know that the deepest dreams
Wash away the grime of my heart
And reveal my disease of fire.
-
Who will be the arsonist
That plants the spark
And then lingers behind
To burn with the flames she started?
Who will wake me up?