Overthrow Our King of Fantasy

Overthrow Our King of Fantasy
© Surazeus
2018 06 21

Her ghost is nothing more than emptiness
of my desire to hold her in my arms
and eat the sweet apple of happiness,
deceived by the perfection of her charms.

When I record revolution of power
to overthrow our King of Fantasy
I dance in the meadow, sniffing the flower
that spirals me on wings of ecstasy.

I claim the laurel crown Apollo wears
and strum the lyre of Hermes with a grin
while singing on top the pyramid stairs
to prove I know the spells that help me win.

I wear the mask of God to hide my face
while clutching diamond scepter in my hand
and then adjudicate the endless race
for who will rule the people of our land.

My heart is charged by rhythm of the Beats
who dance around tomb of Milton all night
so I write verse on weird water with Keats
and swim with Shelley in the Sea of Light.

I oscillate between the poles of truth
from cynicism to sincerity,
exploring maze of stories as the sleuth
who preaches Gospel of Prosperity.

The Jester who was crucified at dawn
returns as first son of his seed to Earth,
converted to world king from humble pawn
to promulgate the secret of rebirth.

These visions flashing from my blinded eye
strike lightning swift to crack the ancient lie
that frees mankind from Invisible Spy
who dares to drink water and question why.