With Death I Sit

With Death I Sit
© Surazeus
2019 02 03

With Death I sit on the city park bench
and watch the beautiful people walk by
who cannot see the shadow mask I wear
so I write their wordless thoughts on dry leaves
in magic spells that no one else can sing,
woven as dreams on the butterfly wing.

With Joy I dance on the river shore grass
and taste transcendent rain of bitter tears
that fall from eyes of people still enslaved,
unnamed and unseen somewhere in the world
though I try to find them with tracking ring
which resonates signal on the owl wing.

With Fear I walk through labyrinth of locked doors
to search for faces of terrified people
who hide behind masks in nice photographs
posted on the world wide web of lost souls
revealing how long falling angels cling
before they soar away on eagle wing.

With Truth I break through locked doors of desire
to battle men who enslave other people
then lead nameless souls from foul underworld
who wander confused in our modern world
so we sit together by bubbling spring
to weave ourselves new star-soaring hawk wing.