Arrogant Pride Of Nature

Arrogant Pride Of Nature
© Surazeus
2022 02 04

Strange beauty of rolling thunder displays 
arrogant pride of nature, from fraught faith 
compelled by hunger to haunt lonely souls 
by murderous lakes, reluctant to know 
why trees weep in shadow of hope, yet we 
still seek each other on the signless road. 

Soft passion of lovers, who almost kiss 
beside still waters in meadow of skulls, 
animates our bodies with eager hope 
to evade death, even when cheerful gloom, 
exposed by moonlight, escapes dreadful flight 
of eyeless owls across the stark red sky. 

Strict anguish of mothers, whose children die 
at breathless whisper of trees, far beyond 
crumbling walls of faith, strikes heart of dark truth 
sinking in bottomless lake, though mute seeds 
sprout roots that devour foundations of love 
too deep underground for the moon to know. 

Pale for weariness of climbing nowhere, 
too blind to gaze at suffering of lost souls 
on naked Earth, cold moon with joyless eye 
finds constant faith entombed in my dark heart 
birthing stars from fear, yet still I believe 
time will fragment my body into dreams. 

Fiery flight of immortal stars, who sing 
of horror cramped in caverns of blind souls, 
blazes new way of passionate desire 
through deepest nothing of dishonored faith, 
yet we are wanderers with empty hands 
who seek safe nest of hope in hostile waste. 

Outgrown sorrow we once consigned to light 
of crumbling mountains, never more contained 
by snapping laws of nature, emanates 
tombless shadows from timeless radiance 
to fracture azure skies where statues weep 
over truth transfused in veins of foul blood. 

Frail bones of naked desolation prop 
temples of dead gods on undulant slopes 
where laughing flowers consume shriveled brains 
of wingless angels lost in paradise, 
yet with dull time I slouch on treeless mound 
to replay memory of the running horse. 

Imperfect future of this brighter sphere, 
that spins in murky depths of sunlit lake, 
expands beyond conceptual bounds that I 
measure with words, unspoken still at death 
of weeping wind, though existential threat 
trembles with every wild beat of my heart.