Flash-Fiction: Visions Of Childhood

Through out the years things have reached the pinnacle of complexity.  Purple rains crash against the agony of cement being tortured by the stampeding herd of elephants, very much in the way my failures were obtained through poor execution of a goal I try to obtain.

Through out the aching visions of childhood, I reached beyond the cotton clouds in my pastel dreams where soldiers marched toward me and surrendered at my feet.  Humbly, the Captain of the Army spoke.  “Madam we denounce all feverish platitudes of winded rage has gone aghast, but our failure to beseech you has lead to breakdown in communication.  Therefore, our existence is bestowed upon you for further analysis.

There is a depletion in my calling to hear the blue birds call out to the fire burning with my chest.  For I ask of you to forgive all malice brought upon your head, my lady of the winded chimes.”

I curtsy before him, twirling around in my velvet blue dress.  He offers me his hand.  Together, we walk down the bridge of the life giving spirit, to reach the tides of the ocean.

I’m remembered for the deeds we spoke on the day all the doves cried for death spreading throughout the tortured land.  However, I bring forth the geyser to reach for the pinnacle eluding time and space.

For remembrance is the hollow of the creed dancing in forever embalming my core, but for as long as I shall exceed the chalice calling me to walk, I shall forever burn, bringing forth a new creed of which to follow and lead my people in the best credence of times withheld.

Burning is the bush left lost to the milestone, but forever I seek to speak with my Lord and Heavenly Father who is the One I follow in the path to righteousness.  I wish to belong to a world where famine is nonexistent for the soul.  I wish to feed the heart with food belonging to the life of the light.  I will trade no one in the eyes of your decree.  Forever I shall speak to the winds who call to revive old ways, and tell them to shush in the sign of the cross.  Breakdown occurs in the minds of the young who thirst for survival in longevity of the whole.

For when the lion speaks, he not only speaks, but he roars.  His voice is loud and hard, but his intent is to be of the gracious heart belonging to the all loving God of Creation.

For to thirst and hunger is demise of the soul.  However, the passions by which we seek are the ones bestowing all holy and pure hearts abound by the earth.

There is no more fire to burn down my spirit.  For only the wicked can demolish all purity of the soul, if we shall but let them.  However, I don’t want to let them.  For it is they who shall not exceed any foolish matter of measure brought forth on holy grounds in the land of the lion.

For the lion’s domain shall burn in the glory of God, and abound by the love of the light in the merciful laws heaven dwells within.

I’m captivated by those who frolic in the wind, but I don’t which to be them.  For a kiss is just the plight guiding me away from the inner part of my being, taking me outside of myself when climbing down the feeble steps of glory.  I shall not reciprocate any illusion.  For only the scornful drink bile wines of impure thoughts deigned to devour the heart, and burn the soul inside concave walls.

The fire I speak of shall take me to higher grounds in futuristic vehicles where adrift I shall asunder through vessels of time and space, forever singing the lulls of the brave who embraced my heart and soul.

Fever encompasses every being with desire to palpitate one’s own heart with wines of desire burning through his veins; however, I shall not let this miser burn my stronghold down.  No bridge shall bare through miles and miles of the tides I swim.

If you must call out to the strong, through a burning arrow through the heart of evil, if only to extricate vengeance, and light the way to the truth.

For the joy you bring has me guided by my own inner light, my Lord.  I’m your humble servant.  I bow down to Your Grace before you.  For only the song of the sullen Mother Earth shall speak to my heart with as much love and nurturing you have shown me.

If this geyser be brought out through miles and miles of estrangement, then I shall not have it be a part of my life.  For I only wish to serve and protect all holy and pure thought, word, and deed.

I summon all your angels to walk around me, as I step down on burning coals, and walk upon them in strength of heart, soul, spirit, and mind.  For they are what shall empower me together with the light You are.  I belong to the truth.  I am the load I carry.  However, I’m also the strength in the milk I bleed.

I long to caress tears of weeping doves only for a lifelong journey.  For if the fires of the soul burn out, then I shall feed the soul with my own inner light to reignite the flame of hope.  For to burst through his door would be the echo of the heart creating a conundrum of the faith you left behind at my doorstep.

I long to dream through this mirror channeled by madness, so as to erase wounds bled out by my heart so long ago.  For if the hours bring forth a new deliverer for man from his inner battles marching on in his mind, then all shall be vanquished in the hours of the next tide of emotion.

© Copyright, Kiki Stamatiou, 2015

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