New Magic Ring

New Magic Ring
© Surazeus
2018 04 20

While every person is delusional
in their own unique way, I try to fool
the world into thinking I am the king
because I can enchant you when I sing.

The legends speak about the man who came
from the wilderness where he found the name
God invented to describe the pure state
of ecstasy when we control our fate.

He stood on the crown of the glorious tower
and sang about how to unleash your power
to achieve great success of wealth and fame
by manipulating the social game.

Each person wants to play the prophet-poet
whose songs lead the lost to the promised land
but none are lost now in waste land of hope
so we all sing to ourselves in the wind.

So I encode the secret to success
in these surreal riddles about progress
on holy pilgrimage through comedy
to learn the formulas of chemistry.

Descending every circle through dark hell
we follow Dante to the wisdom well
where Melusine enchants us with the spell
that leads us to the fertile river dell.

Wandering hungry in nameless wilderness,
I scratch at thirsty dirt of bitterness
to find the apple seed the serpent lost
while shivering in the early morning frost.

Each flash of memory from ancestral ghost
reveals the grand puzzle of Zeus the Host
who designs destiny for me to play
when I preach the new American Way.

Each conscious soul who drives swift motor car
searches for real truth at the Dream Bazaar
where illusions that support your world view
are sold to faithful fools who have no clue.

While standing on the lake shore in dawn mist
I feel the presence of some divine ghost
so I invent the false concept of God
that deceives the world with religious fraud.

I know the way through wilderness of lies
so follow me through the waste land of spies
where unseen spirit of the thunder god
decides to join the quest of our truth squad.

Here we will build foundation of our church
to celebrate young Goddess of the Birch
who taught us how to plant seeds in the soil
and how to sing hymns of praise while we toil.

Yet when I stumble to the ocean shore
after men on horses break every door
I feel the mystery in the ocean roar
that vibrates wisdom from my aching core.

I preach for three hours at the church of dreams
then wander alone by indifferent streams
to search the sunlight flickering in their waves
on quest for honest faith that Jesus saves.

I build New Haven in Connecticut
to shelter seekers of the Covenant
but wander west to silent Idaho
where I find no god on wind-swept plateau.

I stand on sun-bright shore of Oregon
and talk with Goddess of Oblivion
who reveals how the universe weaves light
to spark the White Whole of my inner sprite.

We are the children of the Nameless God
who rule mighty nations with Iron Rod
so we expand the empire of our clan
from Garden of Eden to Gothistan.

The Sons of Jesus rule two thousand years,
I ponder while I shift car engine gears,
but how can we justify his world reign
based on bombing people in burning rain.

Since we escaped the chains that bound our hands
we wander searching for new Promised Lands
but kill local tribes to expand our power
that spreads outward from the high castle tower.

I would play prophet if there was some God
who rules with justice behind good facade
but selfish mortals play the noble king
so in dream cave I forge new magic ring.