Analysis of Tempest Rain

She stands upon
 the precipice
a kiss wished
upon the mist
Hands amiss
and yet so strong
Her broken heart
a silent song.
A throng of thought
not born to lung
her darkest song
as yet unsung
A blooming flower
of infinite power
who's yet to see
her grandest hour.
An assuming love
that does not sour
Her wounded tower
A burning pyre
of cleansing fire
that purifies the
dark inside her.
Through cracks inside
she shall abide
The Stranger masked
in glows of light
The Trickster God
of love and fright
of gentlest touch
of fiercest bite.
Succumb to me
to be free
ye gentle leaf
lost to the breeze
The perfect tease
A Goddess filled
with ecstasy
A queen of grandest
Majesty
I lift her up
to see herself
No helpless whelp!
Indeed, instead
her roots run deep
deeper than any tree
to complete the dream
inside of me.
I anchor her against the storm
of cruelest fate one can be born
her tempest cries crash
and crowd my mind
An anguish which
myself I find
Lost and found
and only mine
A flame that shines
divine in time
Despite the chains
that drag and bind
I hurt her in an infinite way
the love I share both
foreign, strange
I touch her heart
body, brain...
she makes me quake
like tempest rain.