Featureless Face Of Human Hope
© Surazeus
2018 11 20
The sadness of the gray sky after dawn
cannot explain hungry horror of truth
that twists my heart at prospect of desire
when I drive wet road through forest of pines
to work in the factory where engines hum
while my children play video games at home.
This intense force of love that drives me on
with more determination than the sleuth
motivates my passion with divine fire
guided straight through by invisible signs
to work till the numbness of death may come
when I transform into some senile gnome.
Yet when I arrive at blank door of death
and stare down into abyss of my heart
will untiring light of love in my mind
shine as beacon to guide relentless way
through doorway of death to the afterlife
and sustain me as I float in mute dark?
Or will my body, all dissolved to dust,
dissipate shining light of consciousness
so when I pass threshold of emptiness
I vanish into the infinite White Whole
and become swirling cloud of molecules
where every atom retains memories?
Silver mist shining over field of grass
that shimmers golden in gray sunless dawn
reflects featureless face of human hope
that mirrors mask of simple character
I wear to hide complexity of lust
that drives me to replicate my weird soul.
Before pulling open gray factory door,
I stare at shadow of my soul on steel
and think about the way my sweet wife smiles,
then step inside and walk to my machine,
punch on-button to activate swift motion,
and begin daily labor molding tools.
While polishing tools to reflect moon glow
of silver compassion for flowers in fields,
I think about the strange news tale I read
about hurricane of one hundred stars
swarming toward our fragile globe of warm life,
and hope they will not shatter our frail world.
Light of atoms in our bodies persist
as they join other forms after we die,
but our own memories vanish to nothing
when neurons of our brains untangle truth
at swift disintegration of our souls
so we become fruit sparkling in dawn mist.
Angry shouts echo through the factory
so we walk to the glass wall to the office
where operations secretary stands stiff,
facing her ex-husband who shouts in rage,
and threatens to kill her and their children too,
so she backs away in terror of hate.
Pulling large black Glock from his jacket pocket,
he aims it at her head and calls her whore,
so I push open glass door and shout stop,
then rush forward howling like enraged bear
and lunge at him, clutching him with both arms,
as he fires two bullets straight through my heart.
Slamming him hard against the metal door,
I squeeze tight in terrible pain of fear,
and sink down into abyss of despair
that I will never kiss my wife again
nor play video games with my laughing kids,
then I soar buzzing toward the bright White Whole.
Stopping my truck on the lone country road,
I step out and stride into field of grass
soaked wet from silver mist that sparkles bright
with faces of every person I loved
who smile at me as I sink into soil
and become galaxy of quarks in flowers.
© Surazeus
2018 11 20
The sadness of the gray sky after dawn
cannot explain hungry horror of truth
that twists my heart at prospect of desire
when I drive wet road through forest of pines
to work in the factory where engines hum
while my children play video games at home.
This intense force of love that drives me on
with more determination than the sleuth
motivates my passion with divine fire
guided straight through by invisible signs
to work till the numbness of death may come
when I transform into some senile gnome.
Yet when I arrive at blank door of death
and stare down into abyss of my heart
will untiring light of love in my mind
shine as beacon to guide relentless way
through doorway of death to the afterlife
and sustain me as I float in mute dark?
Or will my body, all dissolved to dust,
dissipate shining light of consciousness
so when I pass threshold of emptiness
I vanish into the infinite White Whole
and become swirling cloud of molecules
where every atom retains memories?
Silver mist shining over field of grass
that shimmers golden in gray sunless dawn
reflects featureless face of human hope
that mirrors mask of simple character
I wear to hide complexity of lust
that drives me to replicate my weird soul.
Before pulling open gray factory door,
I stare at shadow of my soul on steel
and think about the way my sweet wife smiles,
then step inside and walk to my machine,
punch on-button to activate swift motion,
and begin daily labor molding tools.
While polishing tools to reflect moon glow
of silver compassion for flowers in fields,
I think about the strange news tale I read
about hurricane of one hundred stars
swarming toward our fragile globe of warm life,
and hope they will not shatter our frail world.
Light of atoms in our bodies persist
as they join other forms after we die,
but our own memories vanish to nothing
when neurons of our brains untangle truth
at swift disintegration of our souls
so we become fruit sparkling in dawn mist.
Angry shouts echo through the factory
so we walk to the glass wall to the office
where operations secretary stands stiff,
facing her ex-husband who shouts in rage,
and threatens to kill her and their children too,
so she backs away in terror of hate.
Pulling large black Glock from his jacket pocket,
he aims it at her head and calls her whore,
so I push open glass door and shout stop,
then rush forward howling like enraged bear
and lunge at him, clutching him with both arms,
as he fires two bullets straight through my heart.
Slamming him hard against the metal door,
I squeeze tight in terrible pain of fear,
and sink down into abyss of despair
that I will never kiss my wife again
nor play video games with my laughing kids,
then I soar buzzing toward the bright White Whole.
Stopping my truck on the lone country road,
I step out and stride into field of grass
soaked wet from silver mist that sparkles bright
with faces of every person I loved
who smile at me as I sink into soil
and become galaxy of quarks in flowers.
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