Broken Mask Of God
© Surazeus
2017 03 10
Long winding road of endless memories
threads shining path through labyrinth of dreams
where everything that ever happens plays
in endless loop of action and reaction
inside the television box of brains
so I wear mask of every god who lived.
As I express strange desires of my heart
in bold performance of new deeds and words
while moving through vast labyrinth of doors
I design new person of my real self,
inventing character of god I am
so tale of my life preserves soul I dream.
Yet I find myself stuck in random scenes
in dramas that no messiah directs
when people wandering blindly on weird ways
assemble on the stage of nowhere lands
and clash in contest of wills to control
who lives and dies in game of life and death.
I stop nowhere along road of my life
and sit beneath tall tree, heavy with apples,
to eat and stare at clouds that swirl and flash
in shapes that resemble people I know,
watching them transform into animals,
so I hide my soul behind mask of god.
When I was young the old man in black robe
told me my body is shell of wet clay
that contains bright flame of immortal soul
which will soar back upward to realm of light
then flow forth downward to impersonate
new-born baby by wearing mask of god.
I watched as he convinced innocent people
that if he burned their bodies in hot flames
then their immortal spirits would escape
prison of flesh in this harsh world of pain
so they could return to sweet realm of light
and dwell in pleasure, wearing mask of god.
When people of my clan vanished in flames,
bodies disintegrated to cold ash,
I knew that wicked priest was telling lies,
convincing them to die in searing fire
so he could steal fertile meadows we owned
and wear mask of god my father once wore.
I tried to reveal his insidious trick
by explaining how spirits of our minds
are based on healthy function of our bodies,
and our souls vanish to nothing at death
so souls disappear when flesh is destroyed,
but they ignored the mask of god I wore.
He lead them one by one to ring of stones
and held hands high toward bright indifferent sun,
proclaiming they would now escape this flesh
and dwell forever with immortal god,
then burned their bodies in hot writhing flames
that melted mask of god to reveal death.
I wander lost in wilderness of lies,
far from the fertile vale of gushing streams
where my ancestors tended apple trees
since our First Mother rose from Lake of Dreams,
searching for new paradise to maintain
while death priest wears my broken mask of god.
© Surazeus
2017 03 10
Long winding road of endless memories
threads shining path through labyrinth of dreams
where everything that ever happens plays
in endless loop of action and reaction
inside the television box of brains
so I wear mask of every god who lived.
As I express strange desires of my heart
in bold performance of new deeds and words
while moving through vast labyrinth of doors
I design new person of my real self,
inventing character of god I am
so tale of my life preserves soul I dream.
Yet I find myself stuck in random scenes
in dramas that no messiah directs
when people wandering blindly on weird ways
assemble on the stage of nowhere lands
and clash in contest of wills to control
who lives and dies in game of life and death.
I stop nowhere along road of my life
and sit beneath tall tree, heavy with apples,
to eat and stare at clouds that swirl and flash
in shapes that resemble people I know,
watching them transform into animals,
so I hide my soul behind mask of god.
When I was young the old man in black robe
told me my body is shell of wet clay
that contains bright flame of immortal soul
which will soar back upward to realm of light
then flow forth downward to impersonate
new-born baby by wearing mask of god.
I watched as he convinced innocent people
that if he burned their bodies in hot flames
then their immortal spirits would escape
prison of flesh in this harsh world of pain
so they could return to sweet realm of light
and dwell in pleasure, wearing mask of god.
When people of my clan vanished in flames,
bodies disintegrated to cold ash,
I knew that wicked priest was telling lies,
convincing them to die in searing fire
so he could steal fertile meadows we owned
and wear mask of god my father once wore.
I tried to reveal his insidious trick
by explaining how spirits of our minds
are based on healthy function of our bodies,
and our souls vanish to nothing at death
so souls disappear when flesh is destroyed,
but they ignored the mask of god I wore.
He lead them one by one to ring of stones
and held hands high toward bright indifferent sun,
proclaiming they would now escape this flesh
and dwell forever with immortal god,
then burned their bodies in hot writhing flames
that melted mask of god to reveal death.
I wander lost in wilderness of lies,
far from the fertile vale of gushing streams
where my ancestors tended apple trees
since our First Mother rose from Lake of Dreams,
searching for new paradise to maintain
while death priest wears my broken mask of god.
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