NEW POETIC ORDER

To my rebirth, my rising sun, my North Star,

The night owl, whose calls apprise me, appraised knight. I have died in this life before, and I’ll surrender again – all I am for your embers; my patience, my pain, my passionless love. I gazed upon your pyrotechnics for one night, scarring sparks drifted into my eye and now the entoptic lights are there for me. Each flash a Shepard to my flock of clouded thoughts.