Maple Leaf Grove

“My job is done,” said the android before closing its eyes and finally shutting down.

It was during the fall of the Falcon.  Dread and forgone longing set into my soul when all the beauty faded from my planet.  However, I’d like to take a few steps back before the War of 3015.

Days seemed endless of lovingly fantastical.  I ran through the open fields, picking dandelions.  I let the beauty of the vibrant yellow capture my childhood.

Boom!  Running further back towards Lake Imperial, I watch flames gather around my favorite tree.

There was no circumference as to where I was going.  I fell to my knees, covering my face with my hands which were soaked with my tears, watching Maple Leaf Grove get consumed by flames.

Warmth from strong hands surrounded my shoulders.  Dreamers slip on the stairway to heaven.

I’m caught up in illusion.  Your tower rises higher and higher, surrounded me with empowerment from your grave.  Is the rain going to fall down upon me soon?

Can I continue to thirst for redemption when all I see before me is ruin?

How could a flame from up above decide to drop in on my home and frolic its essence.

Hunger captures lost souls running towards me.

I’m lifted out of the quick sands by the thunder and lightening bolts I grab hold of.

Capture me with your flamboyant stride.  Milk away all stipends of the lamb.

Rage fills my essence being vindicated by another’s sharp tones.  Mustering feathers from a white winged dove, I stick them into my hair and ascend into frothy clouds.

Sleep takes hold of me.  I’m blanketed by tunes of the meadows.  Can a thirsty fountain continue to drown out its stipends when all matter is withered away?  No.  Only my tears can fill its vessel to provide all who long to drink of its community.  For this commune is all but usury for ease.  However, I know where I shall run.  Down isolated roads where I’m elongated by the storm, I muster up the strength burning within me.

Create me with your flaming tongue, vesper burning the night.  Drip my soul onto the pages of your door,, and let all who follow be enriched by my song.  I yell until my throat is raw, and then yell some more.  However, I continue to go unheard.  I’m blasted.

© Copyright, Kiki Stamatiou, 2016

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