Holy Fruit Of Life
© Surazeus
2018 12 04
Lying on his back in the small basement room,
the college student stares at beams of light
glowing on the blank wall of mute despair,
and laughs at absurdity of existence.
I want to walk the diamond highway east
through seven sad forests to the wild sea
where Goddess of Liberty waits for me
to create new angel from my heart beast.
Pungent scent of the orange on writing desk
tingles his nose so he sits on the couch
and stares at how it glows in beams of light
as if it were the holy fruit of life.
I feel I must go out into the world
and perform noble deed on public stage
to savor transcendent beauty of life
but the girls I love are ghosts in the wind.
Through the small window he can feel the sound
of cars moving together on the road
with important business he cannot know,
as people get rich in the market place.
Whether I write here in my basement room,
or write in university library hall,
the stories I dream about human souls
will never play on grand theater stage.
I feel like everyone should know my name
because of great deed I should have performed
but I got lost in the maze of illusions,
chasing the rainbow of wealth till I die.
No one remembers name of the assassin
any more than name of the great wise leader
after their bodies dissipate to dust
unless people tell stories of their lives.
© Surazeus
2018 12 04
Lying on his back in the small basement room,
the college student stares at beams of light
glowing on the blank wall of mute despair,
and laughs at absurdity of existence.
I want to walk the diamond highway east
through seven sad forests to the wild sea
where Goddess of Liberty waits for me
to create new angel from my heart beast.
Pungent scent of the orange on writing desk
tingles his nose so he sits on the couch
and stares at how it glows in beams of light
as if it were the holy fruit of life.
I feel I must go out into the world
and perform noble deed on public stage
to savor transcendent beauty of life
but the girls I love are ghosts in the wind.
Through the small window he can feel the sound
of cars moving together on the road
with important business he cannot know,
as people get rich in the market place.
Whether I write here in my basement room,
or write in university library hall,
the stories I dream about human souls
will never play on grand theater stage.
I feel like everyone should know my name
because of great deed I should have performed
but I got lost in the maze of illusions,
chasing the rainbow of wealth till I die.
No one remembers name of the assassin
any more than name of the great wise leader
after their bodies dissipate to dust
unless people tell stories of their lives.
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