Rockets Of Mysterious Truth

Rockets Of Mysterious Truth
© Surazeus
2024 01 22

Your black eyes pierce my heart with autumn rays 
that crack door of my gray stone tomb at dawn 
to wake my ghost from slumber of despair. 
I tumble into frozen shade of death, 
frail as the last leaf from the Tree of Life 
chopped down by the man who laughs at the moon. 

Walking toward celestial glory with hope, 
I fall crippled on the bleak treeless plain 
still clutching wings I stole from Icarus. 
With bloodied hands I claw at broken stones 
to find lost memories under my bombed home 
that writhe with passion of the angry fish. 

With my hand I veil brilliance of the sun 
that gleams on ruins of my paradise 
after vain search to find key to your heart. 
Watching for rockets of mysterious truth, 
I search for angels falling from the sky 
who might be willing to teach me to fly. 

The terrifying clock of sinister gods 
shoots arrows of hope in my faithful heart 
when I fall off the horizon in shock. 
I drag the past behind me in torn bag 
while I gather photographs of the dead 
to prove faceless people are always real. 

The mindless abyss thirsts to taste my soul 
with ceaseless ticking of the haughty clock 
who gambles with me to fool divine Chance. 
I will never repent for fighting back 
against the coward hiding in the church 
who mocks vain sacrifice of his blind god. 

Tormented by my storm-fooled destiny 
that gushes in river of useless tears, 
I climb the highest mountain to find God. 
I find nothing but gusting wordless wind 
that teaches me way of the libertine 
when I return to Heaven with weird truth. 

When Celimene demands I do my job 
though the entire world is falling apart, 
I obey her with innocent respect. 
So I carry her dead horse on my back 
and sell it for gold at the butcher shop 
because she wants to buy the Bridge of Hope. 

Though I am damned by tyrant on fake throne, 
I play lyre of Mercury by the pool 
to praise the blind clown who walks on the moon. 
I love this monstrous Earth where I was born 
for I am atoms of its teeming hope 
which she recycles after I am dead.