Our National Illusion

Our National Illusion
© Surazeus
2017 09 01

When I look in the swirling waves of light
I see the eyes of every soul who lived.
I open my third eye of second sight
and gaze amazed into the cosmic rift.

"We vanish to nothing after we die,"
she explains to me with a smiling kiss.
I float on wings of love inside her eye,
gliding over the infinite abyss.

I want to hold her in my loving arms
but she dissolves into blank memory.
She lures me to her garden with sweet charms
and then demands I fight for liberty.

While we all will die in passing of time
I hope we pass our time in peaceful play.
Blind greed drives angry men to commit crimes
through endless war between hunter and prey.

Tribes of hunters unite into vast empires
as haughty men play god on pyramids.
The girl with broken angel wings conspires
to weave me new body from aramids.

I play chess with Death to save the whole world
with nuclear missiles on vast continents.
On jagged mountain where the angel skirled
our heroes freeze into glass monuments.

I am not Nostradamus in glass tower,
scribbling new prophecies in secret code.
I kneel before my goddess with white flower
after playing guitar on the open road.

Our national illusion falls apart
into puzzle pieces that will not fit.
I trace games of history on a flow chart
to plot cause and effect in holy writ.

I carve persona from the wood of trees
I wear as mask when I chant magic spells.
My name is whispered in the morning breeze
when girls gather to sing at water wells.

From wandering tribes we become nation-states,
but can we merge into one global tribe?
We maneuver through game defined by Fates
while our lives are recorded by blind Scribe.