Saturday, August 11, 2018

Mask Of The Dead God

Mask Of The Dead God
© Surazeus
2018 08 11

How we talk to each other about truth
reminds me of the laughing crocodile
who transforms into the ingenious sleuth
when the fool moon negates the crowned exile
because the blind king charts new moral path
we follow at the ringing of the bell.

Sweet agony of knowledge in my brain
reveals I wear the mask of the dead god
disguised as the psychopath in the rain
who sings on the primrose path of the fraud
twisting principles of my weather vane
so all my actions are perfectly flawed.

Clear sunlight in the mirror of my soul
reflects each ancestor who designed me
since we flared forth from the conscious White Whole
to evolve empires built on Liberty
by guiding our actions based on the goal
we set the hour we first rose from the sea.

The complete world view we all once observed
disintegrates through pulse of molecules
which structure planets on the spiral curved
through twisting neurons of eccentric rules
since every memory of truth shines preserved
in sparkling visions of songs howled by fools.

Eternal soul of my genes in each cell
electrifies spirit through expressed words
which echo in strange voices from the dell
where I disguise myself as chirping birds
who sing in harmony with my death knell
recorded in legends still sung by bards.

Though I disappear without my true face
on endless quest to find the Holy Grail
I leap faster, hoping to win this race
of creating the new world view for sale
which describes the structure of measured space
according to trope of the heroic tale.

Still falling from the crystal tower of wealth,
I drive signless highways to find my star
where vines symbolize economic growth
to replace the horse with the motor car
so I give the blonde girl my sacred oath
to marry her while I play my guitar.

While searching her heart with my telescope
I wander endless maze of memories
that reveal how we first invented hope
designed to open doors with magic keys
and climb mountain of love with rainbow rope
where we kiss forever in the sea breeze.

I try to imitate the coded spell
blind wizards once cast against ignorance
when I emerge as your ghost from the well
to reveal God is blind indifference
of nature that does not care for my soul
so I design my own deliverance.

Now that I trick you with my shibboleth
that I will save you with my Holy Blood
from burning in fires of eternal death
by tending apple trees I grow from mud
you will vote for me as your president
though you see my promises are a dud.

Because I am your favorite autocrat,
deceiving you with lies I claim are true,
you will forget I am the copycat
who leads you astray with glamorous clue
that I control the spiritual thermostat
by twisting facts I wish to misconstrue.

Release the kraken from your aching heart
to fight the tyrant in the castle tower
who tears our faith in each other apart
by taxing air we breathe from every flower
that cracks foundation of deceptive chart,
blinding us with hope while he steals our power.

The truth I know is not the truth you know
for we see truth from different points of view
so when we share truth our view can but grow,
expanding vision of our clear breakthrough
that helps us navigate the same soul flow
till we perceive transcendental purview.

If you are still with me on winding path
through endless labyrinth of revealing dreams
that always ends in Stonehenge on the heath,
then gaze with me in endless flowing streams
to see the complex latticework of truth
providing structure for facade of seems.

How soon we will arrive at the world core
to see the crystal eye of the White Whole
depends on how real we perceive the door
that opens in the temple of the soul
where our First Mother on the wild sea shore
taught us how to record dreams on the scroll.

Together we will stand in temple hall
and sing the holy hymns in this lost book
which reveal visions we dream on the wall
that teach us to open our eyes and look
past shining illusions of the waterfall
and know sacred truth of the singing brook.

How we talk to each other about truth
reminds me of the weird luminous light
who transforms into the generous sleuth
when the full moon conjures me as the sprite.

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