Phantoms In The Rain
© Surazeus
2018 12 28
My specter calls to me across the grass
so I replace its face with gleaming glass
to capture rays of sunlight in my brain
that drinks the tears of phantoms in the rain.
I think I see myself in chthonic face
of nameless ghosts who haunt each distant place
but they are fragments of the faceless god
who laughs each time I declare him the fraud.
One day when I am looking at the sky
I realize God is phantom of my eye
for I project my shining soul at clouds
then speak my own concepts to frightened crowds.
I try to widen aching consciousness
through royal role that seems anonymous
but shadow of my eyeball stares at me
by haunting chess game of my liberty.
Strange solitude of Alastor my soul
beams out from vibrant matrix of White Whole
so when the sacred child is born at dawn
I crown him king though he still plays the pawn.
Mute specter of my ambition to play
long shadows road I blaze to moonlit bay
where spirit of First Mother rises bright
and sings to me from Glow Cloud of true light.
He points at bright Glow Cloud in empty sky
and asks if I can feel its Watching Eye
that sees and knows each new role I perform
and threatens disobedience with fierce storm.
Strange presence of the shining wraith swells full
in phantom wings that spiral from my skull
when I wake startled on wide ocean shore,
retaining my lost soul inside that door.
I journey far beyond their ruined walls
to sing new epic tale in empty halls
where dead gods savor dreams of human souls
who gamble to buy script of divine roles.
At last I see beyond my mirror face
nameless masks of dead gods on my bookcase
so I become each person I admire
to give their spirits voice in cosmic choir.
My specter calls to me across the years
so I design its heart with engine gears
which calculates weird sunlight in my brain
when I become all phantoms in the rain.
Though torn to puzzle pieces by mute wind,
my scattered soul First Mother finds to mend
conceptual person I invent from truth,
revealed to be your new messiah sleuth.
© Surazeus
2018 12 28
My specter calls to me across the grass
so I replace its face with gleaming glass
to capture rays of sunlight in my brain
that drinks the tears of phantoms in the rain.
I think I see myself in chthonic face
of nameless ghosts who haunt each distant place
but they are fragments of the faceless god
who laughs each time I declare him the fraud.
One day when I am looking at the sky
I realize God is phantom of my eye
for I project my shining soul at clouds
then speak my own concepts to frightened crowds.
I try to widen aching consciousness
through royal role that seems anonymous
but shadow of my eyeball stares at me
by haunting chess game of my liberty.
Strange solitude of Alastor my soul
beams out from vibrant matrix of White Whole
so when the sacred child is born at dawn
I crown him king though he still plays the pawn.
Mute specter of my ambition to play
long shadows road I blaze to moonlit bay
where spirit of First Mother rises bright
and sings to me from Glow Cloud of true light.
He points at bright Glow Cloud in empty sky
and asks if I can feel its Watching Eye
that sees and knows each new role I perform
and threatens disobedience with fierce storm.
Strange presence of the shining wraith swells full
in phantom wings that spiral from my skull
when I wake startled on wide ocean shore,
retaining my lost soul inside that door.
I journey far beyond their ruined walls
to sing new epic tale in empty halls
where dead gods savor dreams of human souls
who gamble to buy script of divine roles.
At last I see beyond my mirror face
nameless masks of dead gods on my bookcase
so I become each person I admire
to give their spirits voice in cosmic choir.
My specter calls to me across the years
so I design its heart with engine gears
which calculates weird sunlight in my brain
when I become all phantoms in the rain.
Though torn to puzzle pieces by mute wind,
my scattered soul First Mother finds to mend
conceptual person I invent from truth,
revealed to be your new messiah sleuth.
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