Friday, March 15, 2024

King Of The Pack

King Of The Pack
© Surazeus
2024 03 15

I do not want those fawning worshippers, 
he proclaims while striding down mirrored halls, 
who flock around the beautiful masked stars, 
for they are vampires hungry for your power 
who misdirect their jealous energy, 
and would turn quick to stab you in the back. 

Halls of Fame are crowded with Jupiters, 
he sneers while tapping photos on the wall, 
who cruise around Gotham in fancy cars, 
and fight for who will rule the Ivory Tower 
to evade fate of double jeopardy 
in vicious contest for King of the Pack. 

Obsessed with glamor of the worshipped poet, 
endowed with recognition of the crowd 
as brilliant genius with clever insight 
expressed through spells of convoluted verse, 
these nascent Apollos seek only fame, 
forgetting we endure Hell to reach Heaven. 

Programmed by investors to play the prophet 
as the tortured poet in tattered shroud 
who wears fake wings of Icarus in flight, 
nameless poets, ignorant of the curse 
bestowed by Orpheus on the Word Game, 
chase rainbow of glory cast by the Raven. 

After descending to foul gloom of Hell 
to rescue my Muse, bitten by the snake 
of hunger for fame and glory of the seer, 
I lead her back home to the World of Light 
only to lose her from silent despair, 
my heart glowing with strange Wisdom of Death. 

Kneeling in dark woods by Rune-teeming well, 
I gaze at mask of my face that seems fake 
to discern ideal truth in spinning sphere 
that formulates morals for wrong and right, 
till I perceive the Real behind is glare, 
so I regain my Muse with conscious breath. 

Performing role as Priest to save the world 
from glamorous illusions of false wealth, 
I sing uncanny spells with eerie voice 
while bearing lamp that guides my way with love 
till crowds of lost souls follow my footsteps 
and gather in haven I build with words. 

Returning from Hell as the Cosmic Herald 
with hard-won secret code for mental health, 
I sing new paradigm that presents choice 
as creative way to share treasure trove, 
concealed with riddles on globalized maps, 
so we can sing in harmony with birds. 


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