Nothing Of Death
© Surazeus
2018 01 27
How brutally time is grinding my soul down
and crushing out the wild flame of my spirit
so agony cripples with twisted blindness
any sweet pleasure I used to enjoy.
I lie in lumpy bed of grim despair
beyond all sense of time in lightless gloom,
floating in the black hole of my numb heart
that crackles in relentless pain of hope.
I am the bird that smacks into the glass
of a large office window while people work,
and lies twitching in shock on snow-hard grass,
yet still dreaming I glide in open skies.
Like Desdemona, waiting for her death,
sings all a green willow where fresh streams run,
I moan in agony of timeless pain
that sears all memory blank from my mind.
I think I was a young boy in Germany,
walking with my mother in lush green park
on Sunday afternoon when church bells ring,
but all those trees are now dust in the wind.
For many years I applied youthful strength
in setting up computers with programs
linked by wires to manage government business,
but now the wires of my brain fizzle tangled.
Worthless the actions of my hands now seem
when I look back on how I spent my years
since nothing now can ease this searing pain
that splits my brain open to screaming rainbows.
All politics of empires we argued
now echo in the caverns of my mind
like ocean wind that laughs at our ideals
and mocks the heaven we try to create.
Each coming moment of existence bangs
through pulsing energy my body burns
so I can feel the ticking of each clock
that smashes my atoms to smithereens.
My mother generated this frail flesh
from egg of hope sparked by swift sperm of love
then molded this clay lump of lusting flesh
and pushed me out to consume all I snatch.
I devoured the world over sixty years,
eating forests of desire for lost faith
and drinking oceans of hope for new pleasure,
till I fertilized vast fields of gold wheat.
The soil of the Earth transforms all my waste
into wheat and grass eaten by large cows
so I drink milk and eat bread of the world
to energize more consumption of life.
I am but one part of that endless cycle
of transformation that nature designed
when atoms metamorphose from sunlight
to rain to soil to plants, then to my body.
I consume thick material of the Earth
then defecate to fertilize that soil
which nourishes plants we eat in restaurants
while pretty girl sings about ache of love.
What other purpose did I serve the Earth
that spins nowhere through vast abyss of death
than to transform atoms in daily dance
of laughing death who calls out my lost name.
Throw my broken body, aching with pain
that cracks artistic resolve of my heart,
so works my transform my flesh back to soil
that will nourish wheat and apples you eat.
Though my body is broken by harsh pain,
I sired seven children who at this hour
savor the sweet pleasures this world provides
for they are still young, energized by love.
Where are you, Death, lingering in lightless shadow
of my mind-jamming pain, waiting to strike
after you savor my endless suffering,
and twisting my soul into flames of rage.
I cannot escape this body of flesh,
this brain-searing prison of jangled nerves,
since no eternal paradise of pleasure
exists to receive my electric soul.
I will find no relief from endless pain
except when the chemicals of my brain
cease to function in glow of consciousness
and I vanish into nothing of death.
© Surazeus
2018 01 27
How brutally time is grinding my soul down
and crushing out the wild flame of my spirit
so agony cripples with twisted blindness
any sweet pleasure I used to enjoy.
I lie in lumpy bed of grim despair
beyond all sense of time in lightless gloom,
floating in the black hole of my numb heart
that crackles in relentless pain of hope.
I am the bird that smacks into the glass
of a large office window while people work,
and lies twitching in shock on snow-hard grass,
yet still dreaming I glide in open skies.
Like Desdemona, waiting for her death,
sings all a green willow where fresh streams run,
I moan in agony of timeless pain
that sears all memory blank from my mind.
I think I was a young boy in Germany,
walking with my mother in lush green park
on Sunday afternoon when church bells ring,
but all those trees are now dust in the wind.
For many years I applied youthful strength
in setting up computers with programs
linked by wires to manage government business,
but now the wires of my brain fizzle tangled.
Worthless the actions of my hands now seem
when I look back on how I spent my years
since nothing now can ease this searing pain
that splits my brain open to screaming rainbows.
All politics of empires we argued
now echo in the caverns of my mind
like ocean wind that laughs at our ideals
and mocks the heaven we try to create.
Each coming moment of existence bangs
through pulsing energy my body burns
so I can feel the ticking of each clock
that smashes my atoms to smithereens.
My mother generated this frail flesh
from egg of hope sparked by swift sperm of love
then molded this clay lump of lusting flesh
and pushed me out to consume all I snatch.
I devoured the world over sixty years,
eating forests of desire for lost faith
and drinking oceans of hope for new pleasure,
till I fertilized vast fields of gold wheat.
The soil of the Earth transforms all my waste
into wheat and grass eaten by large cows
so I drink milk and eat bread of the world
to energize more consumption of life.
I am but one part of that endless cycle
of transformation that nature designed
when atoms metamorphose from sunlight
to rain to soil to plants, then to my body.
I consume thick material of the Earth
then defecate to fertilize that soil
which nourishes plants we eat in restaurants
while pretty girl sings about ache of love.
What other purpose did I serve the Earth
that spins nowhere through vast abyss of death
than to transform atoms in daily dance
of laughing death who calls out my lost name.
Throw my broken body, aching with pain
that cracks artistic resolve of my heart,
so works my transform my flesh back to soil
that will nourish wheat and apples you eat.
Though my body is broken by harsh pain,
I sired seven children who at this hour
savor the sweet pleasures this world provides
for they are still young, energized by love.
Where are you, Death, lingering in lightless shadow
of my mind-jamming pain, waiting to strike
after you savor my endless suffering,
and twisting my soul into flames of rage.
I cannot escape this body of flesh,
this brain-searing prison of jangled nerves,
since no eternal paradise of pleasure
exists to receive my electric soul.
I will find no relief from endless pain
except when the chemicals of my brain
cease to function in glow of consciousness
and I vanish into nothing of death.
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