No Matter Who Won
© Surazeus
2018 03 17
The love that makes my heart run like the horse
of the apocalypse through thundering storm
urges my quest through the labyrinth of myths
to find the mask that suits my spirit cry.
Once I map the sacred angelic course
through vast museum of idea and form
I carve dreams on ten thousand monoliths
to shelter our souls from indifferent sky.
That faith that blinds my eyes to facts of life
conceals the ancient vision of desire
that fuels competition to rule the globe
till I see the vision of the White Whole.
The wisest and strongest emerge from strife
when our messiah becomes our vampire
who explores galaxies in swift space probe
while I practice to play the laureled role.
Her face appears in the puzzle of truth
when I assemble fragments of lost dreams,
weaving ontology for new world view
that solves the riddle of the laughing sphinx.
If you vote for me to play the world sleuth
I will design the power games of streams
and build ringing harp from wood of the yew
to chant code revealed by words of her jinx.
I guard books of spells in library hall
which I composed from the light of new stars
flaring forth from the first flash of her eye
conceived from our love in tower of mirrors.
She paints my face on the hidden church wall
the moment I invent engines for cars
we drive on highways to achieve the high
of honest heroes who rule waves of rivers.
I bring new message from the blind mad king
that each person should follow their own dreams
and marry for love in the game of thrones
before Death flies from shadow of the sun.
On street corners I strum guitar and sing
ancient memories of lovers by cool streams
who ride horses and eat apples of bones
because we all die no matter who won.
© Surazeus
2018 03 17
The love that makes my heart run like the horse
of the apocalypse through thundering storm
urges my quest through the labyrinth of myths
to find the mask that suits my spirit cry.
Once I map the sacred angelic course
through vast museum of idea and form
I carve dreams on ten thousand monoliths
to shelter our souls from indifferent sky.
That faith that blinds my eyes to facts of life
conceals the ancient vision of desire
that fuels competition to rule the globe
till I see the vision of the White Whole.
The wisest and strongest emerge from strife
when our messiah becomes our vampire
who explores galaxies in swift space probe
while I practice to play the laureled role.
Her face appears in the puzzle of truth
when I assemble fragments of lost dreams,
weaving ontology for new world view
that solves the riddle of the laughing sphinx.
If you vote for me to play the world sleuth
I will design the power games of streams
and build ringing harp from wood of the yew
to chant code revealed by words of her jinx.
I guard books of spells in library hall
which I composed from the light of new stars
flaring forth from the first flash of her eye
conceived from our love in tower of mirrors.
She paints my face on the hidden church wall
the moment I invent engines for cars
we drive on highways to achieve the high
of honest heroes who rule waves of rivers.
I bring new message from the blind mad king
that each person should follow their own dreams
and marry for love in the game of thrones
before Death flies from shadow of the sun.
On street corners I strum guitar and sing
ancient memories of lovers by cool streams
who ride horses and eat apples of bones
because we all die no matter who won.
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