Creator Of My Dreams
© Surazeus
2018 10 14
As if we understand the ease of flight,
vast emptiness of somewhere we once flew,
beyond the boundary of old truth we dare
explore this energy we hope endures
since every name we thought was ours
will vanish at the rancid tide of death.
What is this strange material thing of sense
which soon reveals how far we are now lost
since every time we stop on unseen road
we see this strange face of our naked soul
reflected shimmering in bright eye of Earth
who birthed our shivering body from moist soil?
Each moment high ascending slope of hopes
I grasp to touch this unaccounted way
where emptiness of flowing time confounds
extensive forms invisible to thought
through harrowed energy of lustful taste
however happy we were born to die.
With aching hope to reach the fragile moon
I fly with birds above hard bounds of space
to fall from vistas, swallowed down by air
from vain attempt to be the gusting wind
who knows the name of each lost soul I am
when shattered image of love reveals faith.
I dream new purpose of this crashing growth
when I expand beyond the shell of we
and see with shock how different I am now
than when I thought I was just one of us
since I now wander somewhere beyond them
alone with nothing but the face I am.
Although I know whatever they once said
in words I never breathed from my mute mouth
explains concealing attitude recoiled
down deeper than this flash of aching day
since I here sit alone unmoving with
whatever truth I touch on unseen face.
With myself alone I endure all things
that move around me from some alien will
which flashes not from hungry ache for love
still flushing faster, though wide rings of lust
expand my nothing from vast emptiness
so I become the world my eyes perceive.
Though far across strange world of dreams I fly
I always wake again inside my head,
still stuck here down on solid spinning soil
where sunlight permeates woven flesh of water
when I will stand at last in flashing wind
and name myself creator of my dreams.
© Surazeus
2018 10 14
As if we understand the ease of flight,
vast emptiness of somewhere we once flew,
beyond the boundary of old truth we dare
explore this energy we hope endures
since every name we thought was ours
will vanish at the rancid tide of death.
What is this strange material thing of sense
which soon reveals how far we are now lost
since every time we stop on unseen road
we see this strange face of our naked soul
reflected shimmering in bright eye of Earth
who birthed our shivering body from moist soil?
Each moment high ascending slope of hopes
I grasp to touch this unaccounted way
where emptiness of flowing time confounds
extensive forms invisible to thought
through harrowed energy of lustful taste
however happy we were born to die.
With aching hope to reach the fragile moon
I fly with birds above hard bounds of space
to fall from vistas, swallowed down by air
from vain attempt to be the gusting wind
who knows the name of each lost soul I am
when shattered image of love reveals faith.
I dream new purpose of this crashing growth
when I expand beyond the shell of we
and see with shock how different I am now
than when I thought I was just one of us
since I now wander somewhere beyond them
alone with nothing but the face I am.
Although I know whatever they once said
in words I never breathed from my mute mouth
explains concealing attitude recoiled
down deeper than this flash of aching day
since I here sit alone unmoving with
whatever truth I touch on unseen face.
With myself alone I endure all things
that move around me from some alien will
which flashes not from hungry ache for love
still flushing faster, though wide rings of lust
expand my nothing from vast emptiness
so I become the world my eyes perceive.
Though far across strange world of dreams I fly
I always wake again inside my head,
still stuck here down on solid spinning soil
where sunlight permeates woven flesh of water
when I will stand at last in flashing wind
and name myself creator of my dreams.
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