Written In Stars Above
Surazeus
2016 04 06
These endless hallways of disguised despair
that hide me wandering down memory lane,
lead on by signs pointing home nowhere,
fail to lock the door of accusing rain.
Each book I open in cold silent room
disperses buzzing words on wings of flies
who steal each ray of sunlight from my gloom
and hide them frozen in your sky-blue eyes.
We are not made of burlap sacks and straw,
sewn with tangled thread woven from grape vines,
and wish to replace masks forged without flaw
with sea-worthy ships hacked from mountain pines.
Nothing you say can convince me to climb
treeless mountain of horrible contempt
unless you disguise laws with divine rhyme
that reveal results of my failed attempt.
I built this house with hands of bloodied hope
to protect my daughters from laughing thieves
but now I dangle from my twisted rope
over abyss cluttered with desperate leaves.
Why ask me to assemble broken thoughts
from puzzling fragments of lost memories
when I prefer to design new robots
who will never die without coded keys.
Keep this spotted egg warm, next to your breast,
for therein transforms from blood of my soul
terrible demon with gold-feathered crest
who wears my human face kept in this scroll.
I know you think I am your father who
taught you secrets of fire and fruit trees,
but listen close to this ambitious clue
to learn how you were born from angel bees.
Yet still you misunderstand each word I say,
because you are my son, sired by my seed,
so peer in this jewel to see divine ray
that beams hidden safe in orthodox creed.
Descend to underworld on signless road
and search for your face in cavern of fear
to extract wisdom from gold shining lode
and comprehend size of our spinning sphere.
Each sparkle of light that beams from the sun
clusters in raindrops that soak soil of Earth
which transforms into apples, by wind spun
from spirit of love to nourish rebirth.
Each door that leads you forward one more day
spirals you backward on way of desire
till you embark on ship from wave-soaked quay
and sail to Heaven to join ancient choir.
This city of towers forged from steel and glass
we built on graves of our fathers from faith
each new life we graduate one more class
till we evolve form into deathless wraith.
You will not find written in holy books
read by people who pray in church of lies
these secrets concealed by preachers and crooks
except what you decode with your own eyes.
Wear this cloak sewn from the skin of bold wolf
and run through forest of illusions swift
till you stand in free wind by strange bright gulf
where she will reveal deep bottomless rift.
Wear your hair long as the gold willow leaves
and carve your wand from the bone of the oak
and chant ancient spells till your son perceives
vision of truth woven on your long cloak.
Follow this river from the sparkling sea
winding around hills where apple trees grow
to find the cave where first mother set free
our souls to sing visions where clear stars glow.
When I pluck this string, forged from pure sunlight,
hum your voice in harmony with its ring,
and when you soar with winged horse in flight
accept whatever visions your words sing.
Though every four years in cycle of time
arrogant men fight over who plays king,
preserve stories of heroes in strong rhyme
that shows who deserves to wear the Word Ring.
This world where we dwell continues to spin
and each new generation born from love
plays old drama how who loses will win
and whose name is written in stars above.
Surazeus
2016 04 06
These endless hallways of disguised despair
that hide me wandering down memory lane,
lead on by signs pointing home nowhere,
fail to lock the door of accusing rain.
Each book I open in cold silent room
disperses buzzing words on wings of flies
who steal each ray of sunlight from my gloom
and hide them frozen in your sky-blue eyes.
We are not made of burlap sacks and straw,
sewn with tangled thread woven from grape vines,
and wish to replace masks forged without flaw
with sea-worthy ships hacked from mountain pines.
Nothing you say can convince me to climb
treeless mountain of horrible contempt
unless you disguise laws with divine rhyme
that reveal results of my failed attempt.
I built this house with hands of bloodied hope
to protect my daughters from laughing thieves
but now I dangle from my twisted rope
over abyss cluttered with desperate leaves.
Why ask me to assemble broken thoughts
from puzzling fragments of lost memories
when I prefer to design new robots
who will never die without coded keys.
Keep this spotted egg warm, next to your breast,
for therein transforms from blood of my soul
terrible demon with gold-feathered crest
who wears my human face kept in this scroll.
I know you think I am your father who
taught you secrets of fire and fruit trees,
but listen close to this ambitious clue
to learn how you were born from angel bees.
Yet still you misunderstand each word I say,
because you are my son, sired by my seed,
so peer in this jewel to see divine ray
that beams hidden safe in orthodox creed.
Descend to underworld on signless road
and search for your face in cavern of fear
to extract wisdom from gold shining lode
and comprehend size of our spinning sphere.
Each sparkle of light that beams from the sun
clusters in raindrops that soak soil of Earth
which transforms into apples, by wind spun
from spirit of love to nourish rebirth.
Each door that leads you forward one more day
spirals you backward on way of desire
till you embark on ship from wave-soaked quay
and sail to Heaven to join ancient choir.
This city of towers forged from steel and glass
we built on graves of our fathers from faith
each new life we graduate one more class
till we evolve form into deathless wraith.
You will not find written in holy books
read by people who pray in church of lies
these secrets concealed by preachers and crooks
except what you decode with your own eyes.
Wear this cloak sewn from the skin of bold wolf
and run through forest of illusions swift
till you stand in free wind by strange bright gulf
where she will reveal deep bottomless rift.
Wear your hair long as the gold willow leaves
and carve your wand from the bone of the oak
and chant ancient spells till your son perceives
vision of truth woven on your long cloak.
Follow this river from the sparkling sea
winding around hills where apple trees grow
to find the cave where first mother set free
our souls to sing visions where clear stars glow.
When I pluck this string, forged from pure sunlight,
hum your voice in harmony with its ring,
and when you soar with winged horse in flight
accept whatever visions your words sing.
Though every four years in cycle of time
arrogant men fight over who plays king,
preserve stories of heroes in strong rhyme
that shows who deserves to wear the Word Ring.
This world where we dwell continues to spin
and each new generation born from love
plays old drama how who loses will win
and whose name is written in stars above.
Lovely. Thank you
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