Saturday, November 25, 2023

Mute Grave Of Time

Mute Grave Of Time
© Surazeus
2023 11 25

After feasting on spaghetti and wine, 
that tastes like sad souls of innocent folk, 
I run mad over windy heath in mist 
to call out names of everyone I killed 
till they laugh at me as I fall in pool 
and float forever on tears of their joy. 

They haunt me on the signless road of faith 
where I drive wagon of their goods I stole 
to sell my soul to the king who wears crown 
he forged from skulls of the people I killed, 
so I sit in moonlight with chests of coins 
to count all the wealth I gamble from Death. 

Though I eat grass and howl hymns of despair 
at falling of my angels from red clouds, 
I stand again on two legs of bold hope 
to proclaim to their ghosts my divine right 
to rule the real world of riddles and jokes 
till key of life I clutch crumbles to sand. 

Because I steal their voices from the wind 
and crush words of their truth beneath my boots 
their stories gleaming from ten thousand stars 
blind my eyes to see dangers on the road 
so I fall into trap of arrogance 
that pulls me down into slough of despond. 

Still clutching golden crown of jewels I stole 
from head of my father as he fell down, 
surprised at bold ambition of my pride, 
I stand alone on jagged rocks of hope 
as mindless thunderstorm of Jupiter 
crackles with fierce indifference to my fate. 

Someday, many centuries after my death, 
you my read blind confession of my heart 
and comprehend fierce demon of my lust 
that urged my fight against stark destiny 
when hordes of hungry people swarmed my home 
to devour all I designed with my hands. 

Repressed obsession with vision of truth 
that drove my heart to fight cruel tyranny 
explodes with passion from core of my soul 
to motivate revolt against their power, 
forced to defend my land against their greed 
when I kill them before they can kill me. 

Constructing temple to honor my god, 
as spirit of my father in my heart, 
on unmarked graves of the people I killed, 
I feast all night on spaghetti and wine 
while their ghosts dance for me in red moonlight 
till I too sink into mute grave of time. 


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