Saturday, March 18, 2023

Tragedy Of The Fake Truth

Tragedy Of The Fake Truth
© Surazeus
2023 03 18

With freshened beauty of the evening snow 
that sparkles with frustration of fake truth 
I break icicle off the beard of God 
and write my name on mirror of the moon 
that wakes Anubis from the buried temple 
who gives me rubies extracted from mud. 

With naked anguish of the demon spawn 
that flickers filthy flame each midnight hour 
I clutch cracked statue of Poete Maudit 
who drinks sweet poison of his shimmering shade 
while scribbling riddles on dry autumn leaves 
in curses that kill tyrants with fake truth. 

With noxious spasm of the tribal word 
that spews from hostile deity of grief 
the wingless angel from wise Hydra born 
casts charm of passion in psychotic brew 
to wake fierce Blasphemy from boundless hope 
that dazzles granite tomb of the fake truth. 

With ripened star of the clandestine future 
that scintillates eyes of worshipping throngs 
I measure insubstantial grief to score 
depth of anguish the vagabond ignores 
in program to slander death for her games 
when she creates our souls from the fake truth. 

With shocking silence between music notes 
that echoes funereal pall of our hearts 
I record history of human desire 
with arcane hieroglyphs of hidden wisdom 
silenced by sibylline sobs of blind girls 
who create stories based on the fake truth. 

With appalling lack of memory revealed 
that mocks vain triumph of aggressive sport 
I fashion noble splendor of great deeds 
proclaimed with golden trumpets in grand halls 
while Parsifal writes on vellum with blood 
hilarious tragedy of the fake truth. 

With collapse of the central pedestal 
that fails to support privilege of the rich 
I am eager to commit sacrilege 
when I perform grand role of Lucifer 
by bringing bright lamp from Persephone 
that highlights signless road of the fake truth. 

With heart-searing blood of the snowy quill 
that reflects pure grief of the diamond star 
I cry out to the angels up in Heaven 
but they ignore harsh suffering of my heart 
because they are not real except as ghosts 
in brains of men entranced by the fake truth. 

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