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I. To Ephesus – The Weary Flame
O bride that bore my name with pride, yet now grows chill with time,
Thy works are true, thy patience long, thy heart still hates the crime.
But lo! I hold against thee this—thy first love lies in dust,
Once fervent hands now tremble slow, and duty lacks its trust.
Recall the height from whence you fell, repent and turn anew,
Or else the lamp I placed with care shall flicker out from view.
Yet still I walk amidst the stars and hold thy fate in hand.
II. To Smyrna – The Crown of Thorns
O child who dwells in suffering’s shade, I know thy grief and pain,
Though poor thou art in worldly gold, thou dost in truth remain.
The blasphemies of Satan’s throne, the scorn of lips untrue—
These I behold, yet fear them not; thy soul I shall renew.
Ten days of trial lie ahead, thy chains shall clang in night,
But be thou faithful unto death—I’ll crown thee with my light.
No flame shall harm thy deathless brow, no second death ensnare.
III. To Pergamum – The Poisoned Seat
Where Satan’s throne in marble rests, thou hold’st thy banner high,
Though Antipas, my witness true, was martyred ‘neath thy sky.
Yet compromise hath crept within, through Balaam’s serpent tongue,
And idols steal thy daily bread where once pure hymns were sung.
Repent, or I with double edge shall strike against the lie—
My word shall cut as midnight wind beneath a blood-red sky.
Let he who hears the Spirit's cry taste manna none may see.
IV. To Thyatira – The Scarlet Veil
O glowing heart with deeds of flame that burn more bright than first,
Yet hidden in thy candle’s base, a Jezebel accursed.
She tempts my flock with lecherous lure, with meat upon her plate,
The bed of sin she calls a throne, but I shall seal her fate.
I search the hearts, I know the minds, I judge with fire’s breath,
And I shall cast her lovers down to children born of death.
But thou who holds to what is true—thy morning star awaits.
V. To Sardis – The Hollow Tomb
Awake, thou ghost in garments white, thy name doth lie like dew—
Alive in fame, yet dead within, thy soul no longer true.
A few there are who walk with me, whose robes I shall defend,
But most lie cold, their candles snuffed, and drift toward bitter end.
Strengthen what remains, and hear the watchman’s final cry—
For like a thief, I come at dusk, beneath the darkling sky.
He who endures shall walk in light and never be erased.
VI. To Philadelphia – The Open Door
Thy strength is small, yet thou hast kept my word without despair,
Behold, I place before thy feet a door beyond compare.
The synagogue of Satan’s host shall bow before thy grace,
And know I loved thee long before they scorned thy blameless face.
Because thou didst endure with faith through trial’s withering flame,
I’ll keep thee from the hour of woe that scorches all with shame.
Hold fast thy crown, and none shall steal the name I write on thee.
VII. To Laodicea – The Shattered Mirror
O tepid soul, not cold nor hot, thou art a bitter draught—
No fire to warm, no frost to bite, a chalice best not quaffed.
Thou sayest, “I am rich, made full,” but naked thou art found,
Blind, and poor, and pitiful, with gold laid on the ground.
Buy from me the flame refined, the robe to clothe thy shame—
I knock, I call, I wait to sup and kindle love’s lost flame.
He who o’ercomes shall sit with me upon my Father’s throne.
Let he who hath an ear to hear, attend the sevenfold cry;
For lampstands shake, and voices rise like thunder from the sky.
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