Divine Ephemeron Of Earth
© Surazeus
2018 09 07
The straight obelus of my ancient faith
divides my spirit from my aching flesh
on sharpened spit of my firm resolution
to bridge the burning abyss of my heart.
The clear gelastic truth of why we love
glamorous illusion of the nameless stranger
accelerates through energy we access
quick maturation of the psychic trance.
Emerging from the video game we play
to render ardent fervor for fierce zeal,
we chill bland reticence of aching hope
to face reality with brave eloquence.
Who would escape the iatrarchy of shamans
except to find the key of broken hearts
that leads to clandestine laconium
where I can play the faultless raisonneur?
Since I am no ranarian superhero,
molded from regulus of the lost crown,
I will repurpose my uberous heart
as the udometer that wizards need.
Safe in the sacred holt on mountain top,
I keep my hodoscope where none can read
cachexic code of my natricine heart
before I can reweave huge angel wings.
When you accept my humble navarchy
as obvious state of transcendent pandect,
we can apply palzogony of romance
to bind our hearts with more than crystal zeal.
I am divine ephemeron of Earth
who gives solatium to the weeping soul
since I was famulus for wise Zambor
who taught me art of casting magic spells.
© Surazeus
2018 09 07
The straight obelus of my ancient faith
divides my spirit from my aching flesh
on sharpened spit of my firm resolution
to bridge the burning abyss of my heart.
The clear gelastic truth of why we love
glamorous illusion of the nameless stranger
accelerates through energy we access
quick maturation of the psychic trance.
Emerging from the video game we play
to render ardent fervor for fierce zeal,
we chill bland reticence of aching hope
to face reality with brave eloquence.
Who would escape the iatrarchy of shamans
except to find the key of broken hearts
that leads to clandestine laconium
where I can play the faultless raisonneur?
Since I am no ranarian superhero,
molded from regulus of the lost crown,
I will repurpose my uberous heart
as the udometer that wizards need.
Safe in the sacred holt on mountain top,
I keep my hodoscope where none can read
cachexic code of my natricine heart
before I can reweave huge angel wings.
When you accept my humble navarchy
as obvious state of transcendent pandect,
we can apply palzogony of romance
to bind our hearts with more than crystal zeal.
I am divine ephemeron of Earth
who gives solatium to the weeping soul
since I was famulus for wise Zambor
who taught me art of casting magic spells.
No comments:
Post a Comment