Burn up my verse!

Render me ageless
By the churning of
The axle of belief
Until inversion
Becomes my
Salve.

Paint me as a metallic dragonfly
On your stained-glass chapel;
Invoke me in the pyrotechnics
Of your daydream.

In the contemplation
Of my abscence glean not sorrow,
But purest joy in the sublimation
Of my false form.

Gone is my song,
Silent my verse.
Mute now my pen,
Love, my heart's hearse.