Mirror Mask Of Reborn I
© Surazeus
2018 01 11
The days when we understand the power game
vanish in purple haze of puzzle name
so I kiss the sky that bleeds through my eye
before I must design the new mask I.
Faster every day we race for the prize
to win the calculated play of lies
beyond the wall that surrounds fertile land
though I stand mute with sorrow in my hand.
Twisting backward the sensible purview
which would influence the forgotten clue,
I scope the experience of true thought
to reveal the secret code we long sought.
Elected kings now reign in halls of gold
while angels seek the truth that bankers sold
to highest bidder who mines paradise
since our blind faith will no longer suffice.
The shattered mirror which reflects our truth
was reassembled by the wordless sleuth
who stole the wings that Icarus concealed
since Jesus was the dying king revealed.
I left my crippled horse on signless road
to readjust my brain in questing mode
so I can see beyond religious lies
where atoms scatter blue in sparkling skies.
The funeral procession in Voodoo Town,
lead by the loudest apoplectic clown,
winds on forever, sea to shining sea,
till revolution revives Liberty.
Huge clouds that glow in empty sky of hope,
that help us perceive universal scope,
reflect the faces of the souls we love
who gather singing in the apple grove.
I scatter runic stones on grass of time
to read the mysteries blanked by the mime
who plays our president in house of lies
and tries to obfuscate our hopeful eyes.
Follow the leader into maze of words
till he appoints his followers as lords
who subjugate good workers in lush fields
but fight for freedom when the jester yields.
Ten thousand poets all across our land
inscribe new magic spells with crippled hand
so weird cacophony of voices ring
in spiral interludes from broken wing.
Now that we understand the power game
we will ascend with the true puzzle name
that flashes coded dreams in every eye
who wears the mirror mask of reborn I.
© Surazeus
2018 01 11
The days when we understand the power game
vanish in purple haze of puzzle name
so I kiss the sky that bleeds through my eye
before I must design the new mask I.
Faster every day we race for the prize
to win the calculated play of lies
beyond the wall that surrounds fertile land
though I stand mute with sorrow in my hand.
Twisting backward the sensible purview
which would influence the forgotten clue,
I scope the experience of true thought
to reveal the secret code we long sought.
Elected kings now reign in halls of gold
while angels seek the truth that bankers sold
to highest bidder who mines paradise
since our blind faith will no longer suffice.
The shattered mirror which reflects our truth
was reassembled by the wordless sleuth
who stole the wings that Icarus concealed
since Jesus was the dying king revealed.
I left my crippled horse on signless road
to readjust my brain in questing mode
so I can see beyond religious lies
where atoms scatter blue in sparkling skies.
The funeral procession in Voodoo Town,
lead by the loudest apoplectic clown,
winds on forever, sea to shining sea,
till revolution revives Liberty.
Huge clouds that glow in empty sky of hope,
that help us perceive universal scope,
reflect the faces of the souls we love
who gather singing in the apple grove.
I scatter runic stones on grass of time
to read the mysteries blanked by the mime
who plays our president in house of lies
and tries to obfuscate our hopeful eyes.
Follow the leader into maze of words
till he appoints his followers as lords
who subjugate good workers in lush fields
but fight for freedom when the jester yields.
Ten thousand poets all across our land
inscribe new magic spells with crippled hand
so weird cacophony of voices ring
in spiral interludes from broken wing.
Now that we understand the power game
we will ascend with the true puzzle name
that flashes coded dreams in every eye
who wears the mirror mask of reborn I.
No comments:
Post a Comment