A
red shade prowls by gates of gilt
he
whips his cape and lava boils air.
Hope
flails in shreds; the white maid sighs
her
grey horse pounds as briar shoots darts.
She
chants old hymns; a chalice brims light
and
bathes her head with sweet mauve springs.
The
mortal curse cracks for grace to blaze
a
holy seed bursts in her chaste womb
the
signed babe prays; an opal rose gleams.
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