Monday, May 29, 2023

I Make My Self

I Make My Self
© Surazeus
2023 05 29

When I lurch forth on my journey of life 
I do not find myself, I make my Self 
from fragments of memories blind angels lost 
to piece together my own character 
from tattered spirits of old undead gods 
till I become weird idol of my soul. 

Though the endlessly winding road of life 
which I walk to find Promised Land of dreams 
is not marked with signs of mystical truths 
I blaze my trail against heavenly walls 
by leaping over obstacles of faith 
because I love roaming lost in Wonderland. 

I find strange people, living in each town 
that clutter vibrant states of honest hope, 
awake with special personalities 
encoding psychic tropes in social keys 
they use to open doors in maze of myths 
to find safe haven from despair of truth. 

Strange personality of every person 
I meet on journey of my life in Wonderland 
glows bright with zestful energy of hope 
to print their name in Chronicle of Truth 
by living large against cruel tyranny 
through vital Spirit of Democracy. 

Through fierce expression of our own free will 
we swell large against limits of the law 
to grow beyond our mortal human selves 
as we transcend our frail humanity 
through bold apotheosis our love sparks 
to become gods blazing in void of death. 

With vigorous song of exuberant passion 
we dance in cold indifferent rain of time 
to glow with dazzling beauty of our souls 
through dynamic agency of rich lust 
defined by diverse styles of luscious joy 
fueled by suffering of existential angst. 

So many unique people in this world 
vibrate with vivid compassion of love 
from strange attractive ache of lonely faith 
that my heart swells with tranquil adoration 
because I savor beauty their eyes beam 
which lights eternal darkness with brief life. 

As I approach dark tomb where I will lie 
no longer conscious through eternal night 
I scatter memories of my blazing brain 
as seeds encoded deep in tangled verse 
so I become mute ghost in words of books 
conjured only when strangers read my poems. 


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