The Burning Comes Alive

January 13th, 2019

Now hear, my love, we’ll be far from this when the weary winters come,
We’ll skip this world and the hazy smoke and sit by the celestial sea
We’ll wrap our warmth with the falling leaves
and the softest cotton-down.
In reminisces of brighter days and the hope of what’s to be
And when the youngest man has long outlived his mortal days
We’ll turn the tomes of ancient books and savor stellar gaze
In the sky above us
In the sky above us
Hark,
the burning comes alive,
In men’s old mossy hearts
And in the eye of boys not five, the twinkling of the stars but hark, the burning comes alive
Upon the gallop of steel steeds when the fire roars its tongues
To where the wild & rushing peace comes in
calming tides of clear
Where deepest magic is, by tender and timeless hearts all done
And to the place where the leaves lie still and the lapping Love is near.
We’ll skip this world and the haze of smoke and sit by the celestial sea, And bask in light
of brightest day and hope of what’s to be, in the sky above us
In the sky above us.
But hark, the dying comes alive, and flesh a rotting cage can’t hold our wand’ring want to live, only our passing age.
Hark, the burning comes to die.
Hark, the dying
comes to lie and we will lie in the fading glow till the embers lose their light

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