Unrequited by the lines of fate,
I dream into enchanting worlds
Filled with desirous rays
The fortitude I seek opens
Up from the Holy Grail,
Inviting me in to taste your
I’m transformed by glorious
Colors of burgundy and tiel.
With every drop of hope
They muster up, I find myself
Rising from the deepest,
Darkest depths of the earth,
Standing firmly with my glance
Expounded by your entity.
I think to myself, “Is this a dream
I’ve wandered into, or is this a
Surreal experience I’m beholding?
Whatever it is, I don’t want it to
Towers guide me into a blaze of
Angels of the storm dance along
Jaded roads paved with pearls and
I drink in their beauty, overcome
By my thirst for the passion vibes
They soak into my soul.
I’m consumed with guile of wit
From whom in plenty of tide
I remorse for every deed done
By foregoing thunder and lightening
Which struck me down in my blaze
Trails lined with maple trees entice
Me to enter into your garden.
With every step I take, I observe
Resting upon a limb is a robin
Singing it’s hymn of praise to the
Lord, humbling itself so passionately
With its voice.
For to honor the greatness become
By His true Son is the gift given
By golden hands.
Ivory colored petals emerge from
Roses surrounding my heart.
However, beautiful encompassed
By sunlight, their thorns cut deep
Into the flesh of the clouds.
Temperament be mellow for all
Anguish endured throughout a
Tortured a year.
For the wire in the mist has come,
And offers up chant for the distant
The wiser the meadowlark strews,
The closer my heart to the burdened.
For is there such a beauty as the beauty
Beholding your heart so rare in plight?
I come to you in askance for a jaded
Heart to be transformed by the power
However, the milk I drink has soured
By the longing to be free of your
Lord, unburdened my heart with
The touch of your fire.
I only wish to dance in the glory
You are, if only to merge with
Rainbows delighting in your essence.
Is it not the glory be told begotten by
Kingly seasons adrift a hearts a flutter?
I remise my life’s condition strung up
By the vindicated; for if only to hear
Your laden voice echoing inside my
© Copyright, Kiki Stamatiou, 2016