Journey Beyond Hope
© Surazeus
2016 10 01
Since Amen first taught us how to sing spells
that beam the vision of our minds in words,
our voices ring through every river vale
where children of our bodies play new games,
and echo down the ages when empires
organize our actions in prosperous peace.
Once arrogant men killed to maintain power
and declared themselves sovereign gods on Earth
then crowned their sons, incarnate of their blood,
new king to reign over obedient men,
but now we choose who will play god of us,
voting for justice against selfish greed.
When Ishtar first stood on high pyramid,
while all nations gathered around her throne,
she reached her arms toward sphere of shining stars
and taught us how to live in harmony
with forces of nature that give us life
and still we follow bright star of her eyes.
I wrestled rough stones from bosom of Earth
and carved them into blocks of secure hope,
then stacked them high to build strong tower of sight
where I kept watch to guard garden of fruit
and protect my children in paradise,
but time struck my tower of ambition down.
My children scattered far across the Earth
and sailed west on seething ocean of change
to build new tower on lush Virginia slopes
where they converted fear to songs of hope
to live free without kings of tyranny,
and built vast empire of democracy.
All kings and queens who reigned upon this world
are now but bones and dust that form its globe
and we their children wake from ancient dream
to play new games of power for fleeting fame,
thus my ancestors fled from Avalon
when our Fairy Queen faded into mist.
I traveled west as far as I could go
and stood alone on shore of Oregon,
dreaming of my home in English hills,
but rather than go back to paradise
now paved over with factories and banks
I wander forward, still without real home.
Since Melusine of Aquitaine gave me
long feathered quill from soaring hawk of truth,
I write sad visions singing in my heart
lamenting all those people who once lived
whose spirits now dwell mute in story books
while ghosts replay their lives on glowing screens.
© Surazeus
2016 10 01
Since Amen first taught us how to sing spells
that beam the vision of our minds in words,
our voices ring through every river vale
where children of our bodies play new games,
and echo down the ages when empires
organize our actions in prosperous peace.
Once arrogant men killed to maintain power
and declared themselves sovereign gods on Earth
then crowned their sons, incarnate of their blood,
new king to reign over obedient men,
but now we choose who will play god of us,
voting for justice against selfish greed.
When Ishtar first stood on high pyramid,
while all nations gathered around her throne,
she reached her arms toward sphere of shining stars
and taught us how to live in harmony
with forces of nature that give us life
and still we follow bright star of her eyes.
I wrestled rough stones from bosom of Earth
and carved them into blocks of secure hope,
then stacked them high to build strong tower of sight
where I kept watch to guard garden of fruit
and protect my children in paradise,
but time struck my tower of ambition down.
My children scattered far across the Earth
and sailed west on seething ocean of change
to build new tower on lush Virginia slopes
where they converted fear to songs of hope
to live free without kings of tyranny,
and built vast empire of democracy.
All kings and queens who reigned upon this world
are now but bones and dust that form its globe
and we their children wake from ancient dream
to play new games of power for fleeting fame,
thus my ancestors fled from Avalon
when our Fairy Queen faded into mist.
I traveled west as far as I could go
and stood alone on shore of Oregon,
dreaming of my home in English hills,
but rather than go back to paradise
now paved over with factories and banks
I wander forward, still without real home.
Since Melusine of Aquitaine gave me
long feathered quill from soaring hawk of truth,
I write sad visions singing in my heart
lamenting all those people who once lived
whose spirits now dwell mute in story books
while ghosts replay their lives on glowing screens.
Another well woven tale
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