Design Of Beautiful Death

Design Of Beautiful Death
© Surazeus
2023 12 11

When I lie with cold comfort of the night, 
blanketed snug by darkness, my old friend, 
I ponder design of beautiful death 
that will erase me from this dreaming world, 
and compose other creatures with weird names 
from these particles that compose me now. 

With wretched angst on naked rocks of fear 
I crawl through lightless chaos of despair 
as world I thought I knew well dissipates 
in shattered fragments of unmirrored glass 
that gleam white as the dawn sun on black hills 
to blind me with well-ordered world of forms. 

The large white spider on white flower bloom, 
who holds dead satin-rigid moth of light, 
explains with aching hunger of desire 
complex design of this weird gleaming world 
where oaks and willows on the river shore 
stare down at me with indifferent respect. 

As if enormous monster of the sun 
will rise from ocean waves with faceless light 
and gleam with whiteness of eternity, 
I breathe contemptuous anger of the wind 
to face shocking nothingness of I am 
when I leap laughing on the jagged cliff. 

Awake with answers my ancestors shaped 
with mental visions forming wordless truth, 
I question how my brain knows what is real 
as I reverse design of all I see, 
light spirits encased in material themes 
that flash with aggressive will to transform. 

Appalled at beauty of consuming gloom 
when timeless sunlight casts bleak pall of hope 
on teeming waves of wind-blown trees on hills 
that shine with divine reflection of thought, 
I perceive real picture behind the scene 
where creatures move across white field of death. 

Uncertain whiteness of the ancient soul, 
that glows with fierce immortal song of love, 
gleams deep inside frail bones of my respect 
when I gaze deep in fractured quartz of truth 
to see who might dwell deep inside our world 
with pulsing passion of wild thunderstorms. 

Stark darkness beaming wide from the White Whole 
catalogs forms swerving atoms attain 
as they bloom entangled into our bodies 
and glow with conscious sense of this I am 
so I must jest of sorrow we endure 
through sweet heart-aching song of ocean waves.