Saturday, April 20, 2024

My Real Personality

My Real Personality
© Surazeus
2024 04 20

I like it when the breeze brushes my face 
with gentle caress of the universe 
that vibrates with pleasure of molecules 
beaming with atoms in cells of my soul, 
as if to tell me with music of light 
that we are flames of spirit in the void. 

I create my real personality 
from tales I find discarded on the ground 
by beautiful celebrities of fame 
who grow bored with stereotypes of the past 
when I carve mask of the many-faced god 
as pastiche of carpenter and mad king. 

The horse composed of wind in hills of trees 
recalls the time the moon burst from the stone 
so we could change the color of our eyes 
because we were raised by wolves of the rain 
who teach us how to sew feathers in wings 
so we can pretend to fly among clouds. 

When I kneel on the lonesome river shore 
I close my eyes to wash my face with tears 
so everything made real by rays of light 
may vanish in dark void of inner thoughts 
which helps me find out who I am again 
because I keep losing mask of my soul. 

From deep inside gloomy well of my heart 
intensive surge of passion to express 
soul-searing pain from loss of souls I love 
compels me with psychotic fortitude 
to stand in vast cathedral of cracked skulls 
and sing heart-wrenching hymn of honest rage. 

Loud echoes of my devastating voice 
reverberate through cold cavernous hall 
with searing agony enough to stun 
holy angels that bear blessings of hope 
so they fall crippled to the solid ground 
and never fly again among bright clouds. 

When disembodied eyes of ancient skies 
hover unblinking in the empty house 
of green walls seething with sap of fruit trees, 
I light wax candle of my naked soul 
to gleam through darkness of eternity 
each time lost soul on signless road sings softly. 

I turn around with shy alacrity 
and with assertive hand of holy faith 
caress face of the universe with love 
so she knows without words sweet joy I feel 
that she exists brief hour of conscious hope 
to savor strangeness of this world we share. 


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