Detach Your Heart
© Surazeus
2018 11 19
Fake absolution of dark corridors
conceals oppression of innocent souls
so with my head lamp I reveal cruel crimes
but they continue assault on our freedoms
till we employ their methods to fight back
and redeem ourselves by fouling our souls.
Strange concepts we find buried in our minds
lie silent and unknown till we search deep
in complex maze of tricky stereotypes
when puzzling riddles reveal their contours
so we can calculate deceptive lies
oppressors formulate to trick our faith.
Jagged insolence of rebellious youth
might compromise access to fake success
when politicians conduct fun war games
to enslave minds with patriotic fervor
but genius translates arcane prophecies
through arrested development of hope.
Beneath the wheel of fortune for success
transforms soft clay of my soul into steel
of superman through spring awakening
to rise reborn as Blue Angel of truth
who swallows nausea of lusting existence
when water plays with bloodless corpse of me.
In the beginning is the myth of rebirth
when I rose up from foul mud of disgrace
to self-examine how my mind transforms
through rigorous exercise of composition
to conceal corpse of piety in slime
where humans evolved from lizards of lust.
Rejecting my family and my religion
to reassess aspirations of salvation
along with nationalist faith in my race,
I leave temple of truth with mindless hymns
to walk alone on mountain of lost souls
where voices of the dead howl through my mouth.
Life flows like swift river of sparkling atoms
that cycle through containment of our bodies
so I sit on weird mountain of sad winds
and listen to thousand-voiced song of rivers
where lament and laughter merge in one tone
till millions of souls sing one melody.
Every ideology of world religion
and politics stands firm as obstacle
to true enlightenment of open minds
so I will not stand with nationalist crowds
and sing blind patriotic hymns to power
but wander lost in waste land of my faith.
Because my self and nation are illusions
they cannot be redeemed by sacrifice
of the selfless leader to save my soul,
so I will sit by lake of dreaming eyes
and watch great empires collapse in world war
while I tend apple trees in misty rain.
Detach your heart from politics of power,
three sages sing in moon-lit ring of stones,
Siddhartha laughing under huge fig tree,
Epicurus twirling in apple orchard,
and Hermann Hesse playing secret glass bead game,
so I burn their books and write my own scripture.
© Surazeus
2018 11 19
Fake absolution of dark corridors
conceals oppression of innocent souls
so with my head lamp I reveal cruel crimes
but they continue assault on our freedoms
till we employ their methods to fight back
and redeem ourselves by fouling our souls.
Strange concepts we find buried in our minds
lie silent and unknown till we search deep
in complex maze of tricky stereotypes
when puzzling riddles reveal their contours
so we can calculate deceptive lies
oppressors formulate to trick our faith.
Jagged insolence of rebellious youth
might compromise access to fake success
when politicians conduct fun war games
to enslave minds with patriotic fervor
but genius translates arcane prophecies
through arrested development of hope.
Beneath the wheel of fortune for success
transforms soft clay of my soul into steel
of superman through spring awakening
to rise reborn as Blue Angel of truth
who swallows nausea of lusting existence
when water plays with bloodless corpse of me.
In the beginning is the myth of rebirth
when I rose up from foul mud of disgrace
to self-examine how my mind transforms
through rigorous exercise of composition
to conceal corpse of piety in slime
where humans evolved from lizards of lust.
Rejecting my family and my religion
to reassess aspirations of salvation
along with nationalist faith in my race,
I leave temple of truth with mindless hymns
to walk alone on mountain of lost souls
where voices of the dead howl through my mouth.
Life flows like swift river of sparkling atoms
that cycle through containment of our bodies
so I sit on weird mountain of sad winds
and listen to thousand-voiced song of rivers
where lament and laughter merge in one tone
till millions of souls sing one melody.
Every ideology of world religion
and politics stands firm as obstacle
to true enlightenment of open minds
so I will not stand with nationalist crowds
and sing blind patriotic hymns to power
but wander lost in waste land of my faith.
Because my self and nation are illusions
they cannot be redeemed by sacrifice
of the selfless leader to save my soul,
so I will sit by lake of dreaming eyes
and watch great empires collapse in world war
while I tend apple trees in misty rain.
Detach your heart from politics of power,
three sages sing in moon-lit ring of stones,
Siddhartha laughing under huge fig tree,
Epicurus twirling in apple orchard,
and Hermann Hesse playing secret glass bead game,
so I burn their books and write my own scripture.
Whatever may be the philosophy of such lie, they kill a woman, you never can imagine this death, never to stand on her own,never can regain health, the soul in rest is famous on rotten deadbolt, she sweeps for lifelong, forgets smile forever,. Losses so many dollars indirectly or directly, world a horror to live,nightmare in sleep, suffers sleepless nights, to the end of life,whether she never did have sleeping problem,invalid life,can't face social responsibility, this way an era spoiled, she screams and screams ..No shelter can choice of other land, she losses her culture, can't gain new culture, an endless damage, there are so many samples of suicide, no age bar of such chronic mental disease, somebody think ,it is his fan,but, no sense of limiting speciality,only a possessed and losing spirit, no point of fan. No fantasy but, living in abandoned soft copy, she prays for immediate death, no way she can reach the distant western man, don't send of such subject.. everyone is of different resistivity, excuse those street beggars..
ReplyDelete