My Pilgrimage Of Fate

My Pilgrimage Of Fate
© Surazeus
2022 02 09

With fervent ennui borne of opaque hope, 
still unexpressed at the time of my death, 
I meditate in Pantheon of my skull 
to understand why death erases truth 
though children never study how to cope 
while they wander chanting in lightless school. 

The grand sparkling River of Joy that flows 
through hills of Heaven is watered by tears 
that bleed from eyes of angels without wings 
which cast enormous shadows from our fears 
long hidden in moon of my heart that glows 
bright as faces of souls by mountain springs. 

The House of Tomorrow on signless road, 
that captures moonlight for ten thousand years, 
waits for my wandering spirit to return 
with secret key for music of the spheres 
programmed by the blind prophet with dream code 
to translate wisdom from sad hearts that yearn. 

Because I choose weird words to be my own, 
expressing honest passion of the stream, 
I chant sad spells that highlight martial deeds 
to whisper ecstasy through fractured dream 
quicker than laughter of the drama zone 
when the mute girl scatters wide apple seeds. 

Though I look back on play of history 
that flows with fluid tides of aching hope 
I cannot see first flash of timeless love 
that spirals backward through atomic rope 
to spool galactic swirl of mystery 
without conceptual mirror in the cave. 

I am the woman lurking in the woods 
who travels lonely on this spinning globe 
to build new home in every river vale 
where refugees may dwell in cosmic lobe, 
safe in haven with multiplying broods 
who found religions based on mental scale. 

Still wandering on my pilgrimage of fate 
ten thousand miles from my lost mountain home, 
I measure sunlight with conceptual word 
that weaves our memories in psychic genome 
reflecting how my soul must navigate 
maze of myths to Theater of the Absurd. 

The woman with burning eyes writes my tale 
in Book of Souls to chronicle my quest 
across the waste land to Garden of Zawth 
where my bride Ishtar wants to build our nest 
in apple grove by Moon Lake of Crow Dale 
as marble temple to preserve our troth.