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Confession of Fire

Updated on January 31, 2015

Twenty fires in my core, incendiary ooze death of the poor.

Life that’s saved, Christ implored, tho lava leaks onto my floor.

Amadeo! Cherub of Venetian tombs,

beseech thee humbly, lick this wound.

Tainted earth flows o’r my pores,

distasteful found by foulest spores.

Eternal life, a grace retired,

blood sanguine instead of dire.

Red bat, erupts into my bath,

belching lava, screeching wrath.

Away! Away, commands this prose,

thou alike the phoenix stanza grows.

Ah! If only stigmata would grace my hand,

abate this torture, my saints bedpan.


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    • Frank Atanacio profile image

      Frank Atanacio 4 years ago from Shelton

      You really do know how to manipulate words I love it.. a different style then another poet on hub Valleypoet.. but you guys really know how to strangle words and make them work for you.. it's a talent my friend...:)

    • Stolas profile image

      Stolas 4 years ago from Midwest

      Thank you again Faith Reaper, your words are encouraging. I write from experience, all but a very few of my poems are based solely on events in my life, it is good to know that I am able to relate these things in a way that can be appreciated.

    • Faith Reaper profile image

      Faith Reaper 4 years ago from southern USA

      Stunning and superb write here!!! Wow, I must say this one blows me away. I know I may have said that about another one of your poems, but I must say, I have not read anyone here yet, who writes such as you do with your particular amazing style and talent!

      Whew! Really good one here.

      Voted way up ++++ and sharing (sorry, my sharing butttons are not appearing now, but I will return to share) Promise :)

      God bless, Faith Reaper