A Ballad Of Primordal Whispers


I can hear them whispering, twelve sighted doves painting the sky with a white flame which lies simply holistic
Something heliocentric among these symbolic promises that we share, I and thy god… bearing the universe in silk
Tightly woven in amber, thus blessed by those falling angels paring demi-devils dancing for the ballad
Loosely personifying a score so beloved by the echoing virtues pertaining to silence, listen for they whisper still
Those hymns along with prayers fulfilling a sated deity who sit in awe at the blasphemy created by his own hands

Father where art thou? In my heart… for surely it alone perpetuates your will beyond the gravity of a holo-matrix
Where stars melt into a liquid profanity triumphantly bombarding bashfully my optic nerves with a parading view of colors
Unlike an emerald green transmuting from a prism of an elegant iris,

Beauty is what I saw among her irises…. She, a cosmic Isis found orbiting the sun;

A clementine to wither in time as I too so depart from this kindle state, one lost between daydreams and conscious awakenings
A bit more walks the spirit proclaiming to be holy…questions I offer unto this fading sensation tied to this reality
Infinitely is the finite…an encore that reverberates in different degrees regarding consistency
Ergo my sighs as glare deeply into granite stones and the alabaster diamonds mimicking an angels sheen

It’s all dimensionally verbal solidified by a vicious mindset captivating thee all, thereof in wake of thee all do we beckon
Calling so forth a substance sub-atomically tangible…
Validating the vivid, moreover our love which reaches dearly towards our Juliet-s, Eve-s, and not to forget thy blissful Aphrodite
A goddess screaming evermore within a temple sanctified unto thy omnipresent Lord

Speak without transgression but openly through the colliding aster petal-ing the dark matter in an empyrean gleam
Etching paradise thereupon welcoming all things seraphic and Celeste, like life’s final moments bound to a dreams
Wherefore art the everlasting, within forever it would seem, but have they ever experienced what wait after eternity
Daunting is the thought to a mortal such as myself, that of immortality I mean, unrest is what I see
A heaven unto some, however an inferno solely to I, perhaps its just I fearing the dawn ensuing an awaited slumber

As lullabies were hilted in faint primordial whispers

I can see them, twelve eloquent ravens pronouncing an affectionate nevermore
A similar stasis detached from the grips of Morpheus that chained us to an apocalyptic norm
Again and again, we flock onward to the unknown hoping as children would that there a little further lies the evergreen
Illusions could it all not be… Ovid what say thee
Clearly I am not alone in my obsession in vow to a wanderlust merely advocating our souls among these phantasms

Wait for me in the hereafter my dearest Capulet, as in the hereafter will I stand and we will breathe until our next end.

~ Renee Verona – Paradise’s Poet ~


Thank you for reading!
My anthology “The Night Sky ” is available for purchase. – http://a.co/0pzUVWs
Vlogs – https://youtu.be/vgzLe2Yjv3I

Cabanel-Michelangelo-Visited-in-His-Studio-by-Pope-Julius-II

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