The riffs of life drown out the ease of blasting
Melodies surging through my ears.
My veins cannot escape flaming arrows
Shooting out from your mouth.
I wish there were a credence to bring
About and end to the fires burning
Inside my chest cavity; lying heavily
There is no rest in the faltering moon
The lone wolf howls at the wind
For nighttime skies feeding his
Soul with fire.
Remnant take over the cape
Of the fodder resting on furled
The bludgeon taken to the head
Of his grave is the mustering
Music voiced by the wind.
Chimes are struck thrice,
And the grains of earth moan
When encumbered by faculties
Of the facilitator.
Armed time is enforced by 24
Calling down into the gully
Where passionate vessels are
Awakened from a deep sleep.
Unconventional warfare spreads
Across the blinding glares of the
Cockleshells ring through misty
Caves which drink in the essence
Of my spirit.
I walk these lands with unfaltering
Stride; yet, all noonday infringement
Be unbroken by fighters of the flame.
For every flame which burns,
There is a child rising higher
From darkened depths of the
For they are children of the storm
Riding across country on the backs
Of the living dead.
Thunder strikes down the faithful
Apple tree whose sustenance used
To quench all who thirst for the
Zest in life.
However, it is the zest itself
Which branches the riders out;
Causing them to flea from moaning
Following the moonlight down into
The geyser; they remiss their unholy
Deeds through convulsion of their
An eruption occurs in the volcano
They have become, and lava
Nourishes the land with its own
There is nothing left in the grail
Holding flaming dreams tight.
For the mind has become its
Dwelling where only childish
Whims lurk about.
Searching for bonds of base;
They tabulate their losses,
And walk away from their past.
Try as they may, they cannot
Run away from themselves.
They can only run into the
Arms of their past; hold it
Tight, and nurture with
A strength allowing them
To behold it from distance.
Observing their past selves
Leads to reflection, and life
Long lessons learned for the
Morale of the deed.
If any of the light is to face
Conscience there must be a
Fire ignited to carry out life.
© Copyright, Kiki Stamatiou, 2016