If You Catch Up With Me

If You Catch Up With Me
© Surazeus
2023 11 26

If you catch up with me in maze of myths 
while attempting to evade kiss of Death, 
perhaps we can drink wine by River Styx 
and talk about the dead king in the glen 
who tried to steal our land with bloody tax 
while Maenads dance around glass monoliths. 

Then we can play with joyful fairy sprites 
who dance on graves of gods and kings with glee 
since Time brings down all haughty fools with pride 
who fall because people choose to live free 
in shadow of Colossus when we stride 
laughing on hills where children run with kites. 

After dragons transform into airplanes 
mankind can fly high enough in the sky 
to find that God in Heaven is not real, 
so we sit around in church and ask why 
some men think they have divine right to steal 
treasures we create with courageous hands. 

When we are shadows of our human selves, 
faceless ghosts that wander in maze of faith, 
hang our photos in empty temple hall 
where lonely children of the star-eyed wraith 
can dream tragic tale of our futile fall 
till we return home to lost Lake of Wolves. 

If you catch up with me in maze of ghosts 
that winds around mountain of Helicon, 
we could share maps of history we invent 
that leads us home to vale of Avalon 
where Melusine now rules as president 
in weird drama my brain station broadcasts. 

If you write my name in your loving books 
with story of my life that indicates 
I serve not in heaven, nor reign in Hell, 
I will gamble with Fortuna who writes 
riddles I must solve to find Odin Well, 
guarded well by sharp eyes of serious rooks. 

When I strew careless flowers on dark lakes, 
entranced by melodious murmur of Love, 
moon-eyed Wolf Girl will give me apple wine 
so we can drink and sing in jeweled cave 
how time is winding river of word rain 
that understands why we eat chocolate cakes. 

Together holding hands on signless roads 
we can continue progress of our quest 
for obvious secret of the Holy Grail 
as we travel the Oregon Trail west 
to live in peace as farmers in the dell, 
drinking cider to songs of forest toads.