Spirits of Life
Silken violets, faded musk and jasmine, jasmine floating like some dim angel
above the candles....
Ah, this is the passion of God -- brutal sadness, clash of humanity and beast!
Muted indigo wafting through the rafters of this perilous heaven...
Deliver me from this constraint, this trap, it so squeezes, flexes its cruel arms
around my neck, around my little world of lilies and beaches on autumn nights,
when all the world is lit by the great faery dome of the skies in crystalline
blackness,
The painted colors, the blurred, soggy, miasma of dulled fragrances, odors,
Lifeless textures and sensations, feel them not!
And live past the paintings, admit yourself into the halls of life’s enchanted gates
into its swirling vortex of emotion, misery and beauty, and that most primal of
essences-
Yes, fear itself, worthy sirs!
Fear itself shall always tick, it is the portal of that past life, that startling, gnawing,
tearing, infusions of animals, that is man’s pathway to indulgence and despair!
There is no shine like jewels in a murky pond, for a rose dying in a garden of
sacrilege,
There is no greater romance than Godly valor hopelessly caught in a tapestry of
worldly shame and dark riches...
You shall not have me , bleak coward death!
For I stand in this night as the lone maiden of Truth...
No there is no truth in beauty, there is truth in the blinding light of the
shimmering spires of the realm above!
Hear me, cruel silence, for I know greater love than your cold eyes!
Ah, yes, LIFE, let it ring, mortals, for ye are not mere beings, live more for life itself!
Copyright © Amanda Mcmullen | Year Posted 2006
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