Of Faith and Fate

I gaze over Terra, beyond the boundaries
Of the swaying tree lines and washing winds,
that divide fantasy from reality,
and vigorously choke wicked courage from my lips.

I stand steady on the spilling cliff
of sweltering memories,
screaming death and defiance,
stealing faith with condemning fate,
drifting off the path of elegance and empathy.

I regain footing in free fall,
and gawk at the orange warning and smoke
exploding on the canvas beyond Hemlock and Hickory,
a reminiscence of Renaissance, Raphael, and Athens.

In this deep reminder of responsibility,
I drift on impaired air currents,
reluctantly cradling me above the forest barricades,
and into the portrait of beauty and truth.

I stand steady on the spilling cliff,
and stare sarcastically at destiny and divinity:

Accolade to fear and misfortune.
Exigency of Faith and Fate.

I stand steady, dreaming of intangible portraits
In the blockades of endless space before me.

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