Burning Myrrh

Six trees sit beneath six arches
 In a glass wrought armory, obsidian
 Scavenging for firelight, hobbling
 In the ruins of a pillory, crumbling
 Heart moved like dead leaves
 Run raw with intolerance
 Sand bubbling to glass
 Time spent in aberrance
 Cavern is empty
 Doorway is shut
 Land is in love
 Mingled with grief
 A billowing cataract on a long polished gem
 Joints scream, stone boils from within
 A Silmaril clutched underneath permafrost
 Machines whirr, lonely dig belies the cost
 A sigh of vapor rises amongst floral haze
 Haunted arches resting soft betwixt their gaze
 Cavern is empty, cold without meaning
 Doorway is shut, forever sealed
 Land is in love, heart moved like dead leaves
 Mingled with grief, union of aching
 Weeping ghost
 Living warmth
 Glowing blind
 Pit of despair