Lavender Poem by Gil Gregorio

Scrolling from the midst of a triumph
craved by the doom of an angel blow:
the torrents crown the beam of
of splashing lights to play the squawl
while above the indigo sea, it drifted.
I've seen great lifts from above
creeping down in unison from the clouds
while the sea is crowned by white caps
swaying, dancing the eastern wind;
it is there sprawling a lavender hide.
Who could win the startled lonely sea?
Who could cry happily with such whims?
When in deep a citadel hope for pain
wearying the burning clouds of rain?
Ah, raving beauty loves more than filth
becomes a staunch paradox
of a lavender pique.
Who then is worthy or who're not?
The answer is laid in your heart.