Song of the Priestess (2)

Born, the scribe In this world entranced by idol worshipI have found the living God He demands no sacrifice, no hymnsonly my soul in ink-drops His potent blessings to me are plenty so sweet, they curl my toes coursing through each vein in ecstasythat only in His verses find succour For it is only in…

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Song of the Priestess (1)

God's Kiss When, come the full moon, she prayssolemn, appellant, on her knees,invoking the God, who then descends and lifts her up, saying he's pleased; ordaining for her to simply name whatever gifts she may desire she asks only to sing his praise in lands even beyond his empire;he takes her face between his hands…

On Samori’s Art

The Nature of Fear, Nicola Samori Say, what is the nature of human fearbut a distortion of a once hopeful prayer,that through disappointment, does morphinto something unholy, dark and drear-a hand extended to the heavens for alms;once hopeful eyes, now sunken, do warnof faith, and it's maddeningly slow poisonthat leaves the soul between hell n'…

On Gérome’s Art

Truth, thou art draped in false raimentsgagged and pushed down the deep wellTruth, thou art abused by many claimentsYet who owns thee? Ah, none can tell!Truth, thine rage is as the swell of seasthat in thine bosom doth rise and leadthee out the darkness, naked light to reveal...and strip bare all that seek to clothe…

Painted Nymph

All the cups of colours on the floor;the nymph drips in moistened hues...Paintbrushes and their deft strokeshave laboured in love for this view.Reds and blues, they swirl on her,but purple is her crowning jewel...And what poet can paint in verse the beauty that her pinks do hold?The masterpiece of the artist, she-the most striking canvassed…