Blind In Castle of Truth

Blind In Castle of Truth
© Surazeus
2018 07 30

I wander alone in Castle of Truth
that teeters on high cliff of howling wind
and echoes with rhythm of singing waves
that harmonize beat of my aching heart.

I find cracked skull of every famous bard
who once reigned as king of the castle hall
sitting mute in tall pile before gold throne
where no one now sits with lyre of Apollo.

Hearing angry shouts of arrogant pride,
I look out the window of prophecy
to see thousands of poets among weeds
who fight for the key to Castle of Truth.

"I am the greatest poet in the world,"
each one cries as they wrestle in the dust,
calling each other vile insulting names
while they fight to rule as king of the castle.

From crackling thunderstorm I see descend
on wings of fire the Muse of Poetry
who puts lyre of Apollo in my hands
and flashes visions of life in my head.

Entranced by vision of philosophers,
I sing the lives and ideas of wise minds
who quest to discover nature of things
and lay foundation for Castle of Truth.

Going blind alone in Castle of Truth,
I write the words I sing on leather scrolls
for twenty-seven tapestries that show
the lives of our greatest philosophers.

When I complete song of philosophers
the Muse of Poetry removes my head
and places it on teetering pile of skulls
where indifferent wind blows through hollow eyes.