Perfection Of The Nothing
© Surazeus
2018 12 20
Perfection of the nothing we create
transforms chaotic mess of gushing dirt
to trellis of exquisite artifacts
that touch voltaic arc of flashing nerves
so when we gaze down through lens of the heart
we ticket method of true love to swim
strict ocean in vain hollow of my head
dilating vigor through your horoscope.
Still weeping over loss of sweet Isolde
to glorious fame of television screens,
blind Tristan scissors secret words of truth
from blood-stained newspaper with articles
that show young prince of fractured grail, with eyes
black as midnight moon, ride the hobby horse
to show how kings and clowns are just alike
when they call for Death on the telephone.
The swan who glides on fragrant pond of eyes
spreads crystal wings with feathers sharp as swords
and never sings till day she plans to die
then maps weird Earth on diamond of my eye
so I design new puzzle of true words
who taste my bleeding heart on empty stage
to give my horror shape of her sweet face
since I build palace from milk of her breast.
While I dig grave to bury my frail faith
red-skinned woman with hair black as storm clouds
appears from mist to sing enchanting tune
which glamors shimmering glow around my soul
so I kiss Death with eager lust for life
who bears two daughters from blood of my heart
then morphs my pulsing heart into car engine
throbbing with green grass of triumphant meadows.
Harsh eerie music from the oboe swirls
expansive knowledge of infinite things
embodied in young girl with flowing curls
whose heart beneath frail frost of frozen pool
struggles to break from pages of the book
that maps way to shore of oblivion
where white sand harbors hard-souled man of faith
to wallow blind in happiness of pain.
My mystic diadem from ancient skies
reveals soft decadence of gilded grails
where wounded knight at the crossroads reveals
true symbol of desire in sparkling waves
where young girls on edge of the sea weave light
in frail transparent wings for me to wear
when I attend dream dance in ring of stones
while watching angels comb their sea-wild hair.
By twisting backward syntax of curved shade
the fountain wizard wearing monocle
explains how yellow sizzles arcane flux
to flash clear accent of surreal reflection
deeper than strange words of nebulous love
that marks frenetic endgame of cracked eyes
complicit through broad range of synergy
in cracking foundation for hall of stone.
Expansion of the nothing we design
conceals behind this mask of polished eyes
sharp serpent tooth inherited from faith
I use to write these riddles in the dark
till I escape from pretty house of lies
where thousands of people I trust are spies
appointed by the nameless wraith in me
who energizes how I map the world.
© Surazeus
2018 12 20
Perfection of the nothing we create
transforms chaotic mess of gushing dirt
to trellis of exquisite artifacts
that touch voltaic arc of flashing nerves
so when we gaze down through lens of the heart
we ticket method of true love to swim
strict ocean in vain hollow of my head
dilating vigor through your horoscope.
Still weeping over loss of sweet Isolde
to glorious fame of television screens,
blind Tristan scissors secret words of truth
from blood-stained newspaper with articles
that show young prince of fractured grail, with eyes
black as midnight moon, ride the hobby horse
to show how kings and clowns are just alike
when they call for Death on the telephone.
The swan who glides on fragrant pond of eyes
spreads crystal wings with feathers sharp as swords
and never sings till day she plans to die
then maps weird Earth on diamond of my eye
so I design new puzzle of true words
who taste my bleeding heart on empty stage
to give my horror shape of her sweet face
since I build palace from milk of her breast.
While I dig grave to bury my frail faith
red-skinned woman with hair black as storm clouds
appears from mist to sing enchanting tune
which glamors shimmering glow around my soul
so I kiss Death with eager lust for life
who bears two daughters from blood of my heart
then morphs my pulsing heart into car engine
throbbing with green grass of triumphant meadows.
Harsh eerie music from the oboe swirls
expansive knowledge of infinite things
embodied in young girl with flowing curls
whose heart beneath frail frost of frozen pool
struggles to break from pages of the book
that maps way to shore of oblivion
where white sand harbors hard-souled man of faith
to wallow blind in happiness of pain.
My mystic diadem from ancient skies
reveals soft decadence of gilded grails
where wounded knight at the crossroads reveals
true symbol of desire in sparkling waves
where young girls on edge of the sea weave light
in frail transparent wings for me to wear
when I attend dream dance in ring of stones
while watching angels comb their sea-wild hair.
By twisting backward syntax of curved shade
the fountain wizard wearing monocle
explains how yellow sizzles arcane flux
to flash clear accent of surreal reflection
deeper than strange words of nebulous love
that marks frenetic endgame of cracked eyes
complicit through broad range of synergy
in cracking foundation for hall of stone.
Expansion of the nothing we design
conceals behind this mask of polished eyes
sharp serpent tooth inherited from faith
I use to write these riddles in the dark
till I escape from pretty house of lies
where thousands of people I trust are spies
appointed by the nameless wraith in me
who energizes how I map the world.
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