Malaise

Magnolia hearts need not be brave, For their tickets are only one way, Routes unchallenged, straight to the grave, I’d rather chase the vermillion fray. Though, that is not to feign, I seek no passion without your hand, Step off with me this familiar plane, To create a rhythm of life less bland. In the warmth of Mercury’s mave, Stars stoke fires alchemical phase, Aurora, in tune, singing Sol’s rave, Beating her soul to the death of malaise.