I wind my mind around the world’s festering tomb diminished by time. It’s buried inside the ancient ruins. I draw on the knowledge life experience has brought my way throughout the aching years of turmoil festering up in my soul.
Far reaching are the dreams of a visionary to overcome the battles going on inside my mind when tides of the ocean come crashing down upon my head. I hunger for the hands of the Lord to raise my soul up from the illusions spinning my mind in a whirlwind. The more the fever rises, the hotter my fire, and the more thoughts come into being. I trickle every drop onto this page as the world empowers me to strive towards perfection one outbreak at a time.
For all is this Kingdom’s grace rising out of the ashes withholding my light burning up the sun in the sky during the dawning of a new day. Through every word I write, I strive to create pictures surrounding me in my room at night when I sleep. Shadows hover above my bed to watch over every move I make when tossing and turning, trying to get peace of the spirit. With every breath I take, they savor the bits of air, turning it into the balm ordered by the Life Giving Spirit in the festering hours of the heart bleeding from the voice of thunder. It is enraptured by the power steeling my airways in this vessel holding apart from all unholy beings feeding on my spirit, and absorbing into my mind.
The visions of fire used to haunt my entire being. So, I put my voice to pen and paper, creating every memory haunting from life, and delivering me from the peril of my past.
Now, my spirit and soul are stronger than ever, and the delight of life burns through my veins. My heart rejoice with every word struck unto this screen by the keys I tap, to convey messages of hope throughout the world.
I gaze into my own eyes upon viewing my reflection in the mirror washing over me with tides of emotion. My soul and spirit were cleansed by the truth I laid out before all to see. For it is now the portrait of who I have become, who I will always be, as long as the sun continues to rise.
For the life of a writer isn’t always an easy road. I’ve learned this lesson all too well throughout the years. However, it is one I found necessary to do, because I need to write like I need air to breathe. It is my life, and it is the air I breathe. The power within me compels me to speak with every image my words create. I’m no longer the withered being I was years ago. I’ve written, and I’m whole through every choice my fingers have made before the key board when striking out the music of my heart. Days be done when the moon rises and the sun falls. However, the moon shall go down, and the sun will rise. It’s a never ending cycle.
© Copyright, Kiki Stamatiou, 2015