The songs of a dove
pour into the Holy grail.
Let them forever flow
through the ventricles of
my jaded heart when
I call out to the Lord
in askance for my own revival.
Satin white sheets drape
the halls of creation.
I tug at them.
They fall into my arms.
I lay them down on the floor,
spreading them out to create
a bed I may lay on.
I gather a heavy, musky scented
blanket lying on the cold damp floor,
and use it to cover myself.
I grab a musty pillow next to me,
fluffit it up, and lay my head upon it.
All alone in the dark, I brace myself
as the thunder and lightening crash into
the gray clouds, and rain upon my head
seeping through the holes in my roof.
My entire body trembles.
I swalowled up by my own fear of the darkness.
Tides of emotion consume me, as teardrops
lull me off to sleep into a foreboding world
(c) Copyright, Kiki Stamatiou, 2015
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