Svet

A silent energy penetrates some soft rigid skin
in the third phase of existense,
longing to be translated,
unwillingly settling for static warmth.
The rigidity of its host
encapsulates its transformation
and receives, in turn,
a cold hypothetical breath

The energy is summoned away,
its long, perpetual arms forming a bridge
between itself and its cold visit.
It hangs lost in the void between Heaven and Hell,
and warms those souls lost in the balance.