Messiah For Our Modern World
© Surazeus
2018 08 31
The river flows bright from wound of her heart,
washing all her anxieties away
as she stares at figures on the old chart
to find out where the children go to play.
The wood mask floating on the river tide
contains the face of every human soul
who ever fled to where the shadows hide
in vain attempt to remember the goal.
All things are structures of small particles
so actions cause construction or destruction
though lost people gaze at faces in pools
generated through the act of conception.
She follows faint path through whispering leaves
where people talk to themselves without eyes
then stand around the old woman who grieves
spirits that return to the glowing skies.
They hold their sorrows in small wooden chests,
which beat broken wings at hard constraints of time,
till she arrives where the old woman rests
to investigate the forgotten crime.
Looking at her through invisible eyes,
hearts crawling like spiders out of their mouths,
the nameless people, hoping to be spies,
release their sorrows to become rain clouds.
She touches every face with trembling hand
to see the demon hidden in their soul
who animates the culture of their land
though each one chooses their own secret role.
The old woman gives her gems on the plate
that shimmer secret of the universe,
flashing stars that cannot control our fate
at the second lost souls start to disperse.
She follows them along the winding stream
where nameless souls pluck gems from the lush shore
so she laughs to prove this is not some dream
where other worlds exist behind each door.
What secret will she find inside the light,
she ponders when she wakes inside your head,
for we are but shadows in endless night
who play weird games of love till we are dead.
She walks along the shining stream of truth
from cave of shadows to the sea of souls
till she emerges as our clever sleuth
who writes new riddles to explain old roles.
She is Messiah for our modern world
who seeks to prevent all killers and thieves
from cheating divine dragon who lies curled
at the center of our brain that perceives.
Though she wanders lost in the wilderness,
exiled by the tyrant in the gold tower,
she will return with sword of happiness
to transform his rage into the calm flower.
She rises as true spirit of our land
to guide us safe through waste land of despair
so we build paradise with generous hand
where rules of the game are equal and fair.
She finds tablets with signs on empty road
left behind by prophets who came before
which teach her methods of their arcane code
to analyze types of our psychic core.
She stands on Pyramid of Watching Eye
to weave new algorithms in our brains
which guide our measurements to question why
our thriving sphere spirals through empty planes.
© Surazeus
2018 08 31
The river flows bright from wound of her heart,
washing all her anxieties away
as she stares at figures on the old chart
to find out where the children go to play.
The wood mask floating on the river tide
contains the face of every human soul
who ever fled to where the shadows hide
in vain attempt to remember the goal.
All things are structures of small particles
so actions cause construction or destruction
though lost people gaze at faces in pools
generated through the act of conception.
She follows faint path through whispering leaves
where people talk to themselves without eyes
then stand around the old woman who grieves
spirits that return to the glowing skies.
They hold their sorrows in small wooden chests,
which beat broken wings at hard constraints of time,
till she arrives where the old woman rests
to investigate the forgotten crime.
Looking at her through invisible eyes,
hearts crawling like spiders out of their mouths,
the nameless people, hoping to be spies,
release their sorrows to become rain clouds.
She touches every face with trembling hand
to see the demon hidden in their soul
who animates the culture of their land
though each one chooses their own secret role.
The old woman gives her gems on the plate
that shimmer secret of the universe,
flashing stars that cannot control our fate
at the second lost souls start to disperse.
She follows them along the winding stream
where nameless souls pluck gems from the lush shore
so she laughs to prove this is not some dream
where other worlds exist behind each door.
What secret will she find inside the light,
she ponders when she wakes inside your head,
for we are but shadows in endless night
who play weird games of love till we are dead.
She walks along the shining stream of truth
from cave of shadows to the sea of souls
till she emerges as our clever sleuth
who writes new riddles to explain old roles.
She is Messiah for our modern world
who seeks to prevent all killers and thieves
from cheating divine dragon who lies curled
at the center of our brain that perceives.
Though she wanders lost in the wilderness,
exiled by the tyrant in the gold tower,
she will return with sword of happiness
to transform his rage into the calm flower.
She rises as true spirit of our land
to guide us safe through waste land of despair
so we build paradise with generous hand
where rules of the game are equal and fair.
She finds tablets with signs on empty road
left behind by prophets who came before
which teach her methods of their arcane code
to analyze types of our psychic core.
She stands on Pyramid of Watching Eye
to weave new algorithms in our brains
which guide our measurements to question why
our thriving sphere spirals through empty planes.
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