Wednesday, April 17, 2024

Mask Of My Face

Mask Of My Face
© Surazeus
2024 04 17

My ancestors speak through mask of my face 
with calm voices of farmers and craftsmen 
who want to reconstruct our broken world 
from moon-lit hopes of the blind butterfly 
that lands on shoulder of the gold-eyed girl 
who shapes clouds into dragons of the heart. 

Our first mother speaks through mask of my face 
with voice of wind that whispers arcane code 
contrived from shadow of the dreamless cave 
so I know secret of eternal life 
based on ideal particles of all things 
that sprout from seeds into specific forms. 

Our first father speaks through mask of my face 
with voice of waves that howl weird prophecies 
designed by hands to imitate machines 
which help frail humans conquer spinning Earth 
by marking boundaries for nation-states 
where frightened men dress up to play as kings. 

My shy demon speaks through mask of my face 
with voice of writhing snakes in runeless well 
to narrate history for how things occur 
according to the victors of world war 
which proves their right to codify the rules 
that determine who fails and who succeeds. 

My mad angel speaks through mask of my face 
with voice of prophecy from eyeless stars 
recording how mankind evolves from fish 
to dance as wingless angels singing spells 
on pyramid we build with bleeding hands 
to fly with hang glider Daedalus made. 

My inner child speaks through mask of my face 
with voice of faith in goodness of mankind 
who dwells together in lush paradise 
because we build high walls of granite stone 
to guard Garden of Eden with sharp swords 
while slaves tend fruit trees in haven of hope. 

My divine brain speaks through mask of my face 
with voice of alphabets birds explicate 
to imitate shouts of children who play 
games of chase in forest of faceless ghosts 
till I discover on library shelf 
lost Holy Grail I forged from meteor stone. 

My godless soul speaks through mask of my face 
with voice of energy from sparks of light 
that swerve as atoms in the mindless void 
when I wake from relentless dream of change 
alone on peak of Parnassus at dawn 
because I forget everything I said. 


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