There is a Fountain fills with Dreams

A short fantasy poem I have written when I was fourteen. A poem about an imagery Fountain.

There is a Fountain fills with Dreams,

created by Goodness' flames; 

As the dreamers woke after the rain,

have gained all their fate; 

As the sinners, kneeling down to pray,

have lost all their guilty stains. 

And as the dreamers or sinners, 

settling down to wait or pay,

have found all their identity.

The injured soul rejoiced to see,

the Fountain in her day,

And there have I,

though painful as she,

have found all my courage and faiths;

And there have I,

though sorrowful as she,

have washed all my sins away.

Dear the Lady of the Golden Fountain,

The Goddess of Salvation,

My appreciation-to thy magic

shall never lose its power.

They Power-

the undescended sun-

to the dreamer's desires;

Thy Power,

the destroyer of Pandora;

Thy Power-

the foreteller, 

Er' since by faith,

I found your trace.

Thy guiding my way not far away.

Gathering hope has been my theme,

and shall be,

till I found peace.

Gathering lights have been my theme,

and shall be,

till I am free.