Purged By The Burgeoning Fires

Though the weight of death is thrown upon me, unburdened of flesh and its lustful aims, purged by the burgeoning fires, I wait for the resurrection of will, for the unimpeachable light of dawn sparking a slender ember of life I might grasp and push it deeply into my beatless heart. What sign then of this glorious hour that I may be reunited with thee, that I may hold thee once again in an agony of delight. And should my wait span a millennia, as a second passes its strength to the next, cumulative time fully empowered within itself, then my love will be cumulative within thee, causing the friction to reignite thy spirited heart, and thy blood will flow, the sleep of death wildly shaken, its cold bed disturbed beyond all endurance, and thou shall wake, and shall light with the dawn.