The concept for “Destiny” evolved partly from the painting “Nymphs and Satyr” by William-Adolphe Bouguereau. One of my favourite paintings, and I see it recurring everywhere in my adventures. I had always wondered what would happen when the nymphs do eventually pull him under the water. Today we find out.
He discovers the Queen of the nymphs and she hands him an amulet that shows him Elysium and a world he passionately desires.
I write my poetry by hand ~ because my love for handmade beauty, is still stronger than ever. Technology and AI actually takes me further in this love, for when the human touch becomes symbiotic with technology is when things become interesting. I think this has always accounted for my love of cinema too. When surrounded by the artworld as a child, I felt myself within a lived experience of the paintings that surrounded me and I dreamt of them moving, and of great adventures within the picture frame. I would sit up close to the television and imagine myself within a greater world that was expansive beyond. And around me the static paintings on the wall spoke to me in a different way, they questioned me, and impelled me to write.
I cannot bring myself to write poetry on a screen, only pen to paper. And with pen to paper I wrote this story. It began with “Elysium Awaits In Bliss” ~ (acquired by @basileus_eth)
An antique dealer’s nephew comes upon his uncle’s latest project, a painting that comes to life and shows him a vision of the King Of Paradise fallen into a state of complacency and Elysium crumbles around him.
In the next chapter of “King’s Faun” ~ (acquired by @comfydevil)
A faun lost in the first comes upon the ghost that claims to be the King Of Paradise and tell him of some haunted visions he had.
Next in “Paradise Reigns” an army of fauns descend on Elysium and behead the disgraced King taking over and doing what they will, a bacchanal of pleasure ensues.
"Destiny" finds again that faun from “The King’s Faun” soon after his encounter with the ghost as he wanders to the lake.
This story draws from a rich tapestry of mythological and fairy tale elements, painting a narrative that is both timeless and contemporary. The faun, a recurring figure in my work, serves as a symbolic vessel, navigating the turbulent waters of fate and the quest for paradise. His journey, filled with moments of revelation and confrontation, mirrors our own struggles with identity, purpose, and the pull of destiny.
To bring this vision to life visually, I used AI to create cinematic fine art with a painterly touch. The result is an immersive, dreamlike landscape where poetry and visual art converge. This approach allowed me to capture the ethereal quality of the story, with visuals that echo the depth and emotion of the words.
It’s a reminder that even in an age of rapid technological advancement, the essence of art—its ability to move, inspire, and connect—remains rooted in the human experience.
destiny
His stories echoed in my ears,
Their tickling with sorrowful cheers,
Of the faun I once was now drifting away.
Fading with the silhouette of who he was for years,
Small figures twisted from clay,
Played out the theatre of dreams washed away,
Broken branches left in my wake,
Unto the river to cleanse my thoughts, at the break of day.
The rising sun reflecting off the water’s face,
Aphrodite’s daughters were bathing in the lake,
Sheets of falling crystals shattered in the pool,
She was the eyes of the forest,
And it’s downwards spiraling iris compelled my very being to its centre,
A frozen stream at the core of its soul,
Grasped my feet, my calf, my body in whole,
As it dove with me through the dancing shadows of eternity.
In that deafening darkness I heard a voice,
So sweet it could pierce a leviathan’s roar,
Let alone the dull droning of the abyss that obscured,
The eels and catfish from my gazing,
At its beautiful source,
The Queen in all her glory,
Her presence divine, her whispers that story,
Of a place where poetry was all of life,
She gave me an amulet,
This piece, this piece I held in my hand,
The piece itself, a map of the land,
A vessel for the spirit’s release,
Just like the King Of Paradise,
Had told me in ghost-like reflection,
But who was this faun that now sat on his throne?
Who thinks he basks in paradise reborn,
But doesn’t he know all around him are spies,
They send word, back to the King of Paradise,
And they watch through covetous eyes,
“Enter the library,
For what awaits inside,
A thousand years since Elysium fell,
Scrub off the rust,
In tournament you will thrust,
Hold it to the light,
It is the omen of your life,
Beacon to Elysium,
To it’s call you must stride,
Emerge from the forest,
Like the ghost of night.
The King is falling,
Take Paradise.”
It was then I heard soaring beating wings on the wind,
Growling paws thumping on the forest floor,
Where did this amulet fall from?
From where did it come?
Increasingly, my thoughts turn to destiny.
For what comes to me is my own,
And the prophecies of this big wide world,
Fall at the shore of a reaching unknowable ocean,
But that abyss in the distance began to form both shape and sound,
Like a ship that peered from the great beyond,
Followed by legions of voices,
Caroling with passion,
A chorus of Romantic roars that bellowed its chants to Elysium,
The sound of a great billowing cause,
Beauty rising with the dawn,
We shall rally and tumult at the grey falling skies.
For they scuffed and fought for the lord of the fauns,
And then raising my fist for that lord is I,
Dust and clamor at desire for this life,
In tribute to the heavens, for that time is ours.
With wreathes of roses adorned they let their bellows howl at the moon.
Elysium was ours for the taking,
At the fall of day we did run, carrying the thorns, the stem and all,
We met the followers and climbed up the heights,
And savored the day for the lions and wolves.
From that vantage I saw, a life that did shine,
Scaled the citadel walls,
The parlor of Gods and Monsters of chariots all of fire,
The falling wheel spins in wonder and the birds chimed with desire,
A sudden burst of feeling as if death crossed our eyes and existence sprang anew, an eternal sacrifice,
Elysium was overrun with the bastions of beauty,
They scoured and tasseled and felt the ornaments and sculptures and paintings,
They shuddered, dripping with power,
For paradise was ours.
~ Laurence Fuller, 2024
Previous Chapters In The King Of Paradise Saga
We remember in fragments,
Like a glass frame,
Shattered to the last vein, at the end of a long life.
And that’s where I remember mine,
Glinting at the bottom of a well, which we call ourselves.
The forest was all I had known.
Chasing through its shadows,
That day I came upon a bronze mask,
Unlike anything I had seen before;
A relic on the forest floor,
Glowing in the moonlight.
A rose burst into flames before its gaze,
And the crows carolled in the wind,
For me to follow the river’s maze and drench my sins.
And for days I was lost in the forest,
Until I came upon a nymph,
She kissed my face to my chin,
And I found again the taboos of sin,
And then I heard, the voice of a king;
“To covert of our Kingdom,
The stones of our courtyard,
Where the lavender grew,
By the gates of Paradise and all that lies waiting for you.”
I can never recede, what I saw in the forest that eve,
The King Of Paradise called me to his side.
And this is where his secrets had led him,
His back had hunched and spiralled down his spine.
The bones made of rocks and moss and his hide as course as mine.
“There’s a life I must admit to you,
If you will hear the story of how this came to be,
It will lead you through a labyrinth of dreams.”
by Laurence Fuller, 2024
I descended the stairs of Paradise with all my brothers grasping roses by their side,
Stepping through the halls and drowned at last in light,
It was none-other than the transcendent glow of paradise,
Some fauns were lifted by the rapture,
We were all surrounded by this encounter,
I know I was one step closer to his chamber.
For those soldiers of beauty who danced down steps of gold like they were skating on heavens tiles,
Ivory chalk, they clap and clasp the reigns or tearing war elephants beneath the thunderous skies of Elysium’s stormy clouds,
The mud makes way their hoof and foot
As satyr’s claimed the sky,
and all the land was light,
Ancient and divine,
Freedom, pleasure, euphoria,
The constraint of goodness cast their chains, locks and cracked iron did not remain,
Left those burdens, like morality’s restraints.
Sat all above the elements command,
Elysium Rex sat troubled by an addled countenance and sat upon a throne of roses.
A Babylon before him of endless gardens,
Vines wrapped around ornaments of worship,
Though the old King knew what once filled merchant’s coffers with plenty to harvest.
The vines began to dry,
And clay did crack with time,
Eroded the castle walls with rust that breached Paradise falls.
The mind can rot like broken pots,
And the scepter melts into a trough,
Filled with shells.
The body dried like sticks,
And the dance of life hardened broken promises and a picture frame of a lost queen beneath.
The King’s private songbird nipped at his grey beard and hair.
As he purveyed his crumbling kingdom like the tablets he once held so tight,
Beneath that hardened grip of might,
Fragments hanging from the gardens over the balconies.
He stares out of the window
At all the beauty now fallen to shadows
Falling irises collected by the pond he once plundered,
And lavender swayed in the breeze of war,
For they will not be seen,
Beauty captured, cataloged and owned,
Laid before the throne
Only the finest…
Only the best.
Making my way to the castle
I climb the walls and talk
“Do you feel it?
Brothers that is Paradise breathing in your bones,
The petals blooming like our hearts in arrest,
Can you feel it,
Burrowing in your soul,
It’s like all of life is dancing in the air,
The smallest sound feels like a melody in our ears,
The bugs and birds fly in synchronicity,
Higher and higher, the wind may never stop,
Rise so high they graze the clouds,
The green parade in the sky,
It was the first sign, the year had changed, forever,
And this was marked by a single falling feather,
It’s bronze reflection landed on a statue,
Dancing on marble;
Inscribed,
“Dance with me,
With your baddest electric energy,
Your arms those falling feathers,
The night moves upon your feet,
This life passes once before us,
And never again we shall meet.”
Beyond the gardens and all it sees,
Seeds from figs and fruit sprout new beginnings from every part of paradise’s soil,
My brothers bounding through its ruins, like giants of the soul.
Draped across the steps were Elysium’s daughters one and all.
I walked up to his chamber,
Each step it struck a chord,
Like climbing a harp to heaven.
He heard my footsteps on the floor
“So it was you after all”
I clutched his hair and with my blade removed his head from his shoulders,
His body fell to the floor, by my feet,
From the corner of my eye, there stood the seat,
Adorned in gold and bone,
Perishing petals in the heat fell by my feet,
As I ascend my rightful throne,
And there for the first time,
I set my hands upon the crown.
Just then the Queen appeared,
Shining like the Sun,
A new era had begun.
My Uncle was an antique dealer ~ on the edge of Paradise,
And that’s where he lived for his whole life.
A workshop filled with mechanisms,
Not art, nor science, nor religion, nor the learned scholars from the palace, could make of library ~ what he made from a single restoration.
A table full of pickled creatures,
Cupboard of ancient elixirs,
Collectors from the far corners of Paradise,
Lined up to see what was the latest from the alchemy of his study.
On the morning of 17th Birthday,
Arrived the strangest parcel,
Never seen anything like it,
Not even from the basement of an ancient castle.
My Uncle unwrapped it with the greatest care;
“Now this you must never tell”
It seemed as if it was a painting,
And yet it lived and moved, and swirled.
Creating itself, again and again and destroying and beginning every second anew.
The Masterpiece lived before our eyes,
In the infinite pleasures of Paradise.
My Uncle turned to me and said;
“This was painted by the lord of the fauns.
There are my boy the darkest secrets,
That he would destroy all of Paradise,
To keep in its’ shadows”
From then on, everywhere it went, I followed.
Yearning to know its’ secrets.
And in the earliest hours of dust and sunlight ~ The Masterpiece came to life.
It’s glimmer down the halls,
Woke me as the light bounced off the walls.
In that cold night, my breathe a-steam,
My pre-occupation with the pleasures of my dreams.
Dissipated, by what I now see.
Passing through a landscape,
The painting now spoke to me.
My heart was beating out my chest.
Unto this last ~ the canvas stretched,
Gothic bells that could be heard,
Between the sweet sounds,
Of exotic birds.
The gardens of the most vibrant vines,
The pride of all of Paradise,
The Palace where the King resides.
The gardens stretch for miles,
The petals of every iris fell,
Once bloomed in righteous hues.
Between two statues; the entrance to the Palace.
A King beloved by the people,
Was sheltered by the shadows of a crumbling steeple.
“Paradise Reigns,
Ecstasy for endless days,
Rapture all our life,
For the burning rose,
We will sacrifice.
Paradise Reigns,
Ecstasy for endless days,
Rapture all our life,
For the burning rose,
We will sacrifice.”
And yet seeping up the creek,
The God of Pleasure had already taken his seat.
His wicked calls, echoes down the halls.
Dominion over the Kingdom,
As pleasure dripped from the statues, chandeliers and candlesticks.
The riverbanks were choked with weeds and brambles, their tangled roots reaching out like grasping claws to ensnare.
Sirens dripping wet with barnacles in their hair.
Deviance in a house of lust,
Temple of sin,
For the fallen King.
Debaucherous trance encompassed the people,
Caught in the grips of an avalanche,
Of power of madness,
Hysteria in a blaze of pleasure,
Gripped by the euphoria of devotion,
To his Royal gaze.
Worship the ineffable days of endless glory ~ Paradise Reigns.
As he walks in the temple it shines with the light of the burning rose.
The very air parts way to the divine.
This is our hero,
The flame that never dies,
A covenant of courage divine.
Overlook the God of Pleasure’s revenge?
Here’s of course, where it ends.
Fall to one’s own carnal fantasies,
Where the seeds of war did flourish by the conquerer’s dreams.
Sleeping while the wicked wind like weeds around the palace and all it sees.
Plant the seeds of sin,
And watch the corruption settle in.
The riverbanks were choked with weeds and brambles.
They’re tangled roots reaching out like grasping claws to ensnare.
Sirens dripping wet with barnacles in their hair.
Catfish darted from rotting wood to shelter.
Flowed through that black vein of the city.
Where the King had wandered and made his bed among the miscreant and wayward.
A cavern of shadows,
Now the parlor of a once great King,
Laying in the muck.
Surrounded by waste,
Slime and maggots consume the leavings in his haste.
Discarded piles of pork,
Rotting fruit, sour wine,
Scavengers feeding off the remnants of life.
This is where Paradise came to die.
The Temple’s shine was overrun,
And the worshipers bled an unholy sum.
The heavens dropped and darkness clawed like moss.
Overrun with rot,
Blistered in the heart of the Palace, like a blood clot.
Wails and cries of their calamity;
ALL IS LOST!
The sky was full and grey,
The clouds heavy, with the promise of rain.
Existing in a turgid state.
The King looked up at the skies;
“What has happened to Paradise?!”
ALL IS LOST!
As I look out, over the glowing mist,
A legion of heroes raise their fists,
Chants to the fallen sun,
Elysium awaits in bliss.
~ Laurence Fuller, 2023