The Embalment of Satin Clouds

I'm freezing, and my heart is slowly dying.  I"m showered by your raging waters that consume me everytime I exhale.  Seasoned is the fire that burns within the crest of your jagged soul.  Paper roses mock me within their laughing eyes, and constitute the measure of good faith that drips from the sun unto my undulant flesh.  For your words are arrows that pierce my weeping spirit whenever I walk these trifling halls alone in the burning river of darkness.  For I am succombed by your sadistic brigade that holds my visions hostage to the past.  I search holistic gateways that will lead me on the true path of righteousness, but not until I break the illness that is my prison.  I'm talking about the unlawful stakes driven further into my light, and create dancing shadows, merging into one sallow beast whose woes have become one with me.  I am the hunger that bleeds into your crystal valve, only to surround your congregated ship with my sullen tears.  Satin clouds caress my shivering head, only to embalm themselves in the tomb of Christ.