Analysis of Annie Rhye

Where Life is full of Annie Rhye,
Where nights are long, where Dreams are wild,
I run and sing, I laugh and cry
With lips of steel and eyes of child.

And then I kneel beside Her feet,
I touch Her knees, I rip Her skirt,
I scar the heels and while they bleed,
I melt my kiss inside my words:

- Hold me, oh, hold me Annie Rhye
In Thy sweet heart for arms are iced;
Kill me, wound me or through Your sighs
Forgive my sins, my little Christ.

And on Her skin, my tears are dried,
Inside my blood, Her blesses bloom.
A crimson grin on Annie Rhye.
A bed of mud. A sacred tomb.