My Own New Identity

My Own New Identity
© Surazeus
2024 10 25

Though I once had a clear identity 
by which I defined my place in the world, 
my special features making me unique 
have vanished through mirror of privilege 
so I am not now who I used to be, 
nameless and faceless in maze of false dreams. 

True identity of my soul projects 
frame for immortal spirit of my genes 
to walk this world in particular form, 
commissioned with duty to procreate 
replications of ancestral ideal 
with variations that improve its state. 

Stepping outside house of identity, 
I encounter metaphysical void 
devoid of definitions I accept 
that color how people perceive my being, 
though I stand under bright seraphic wing 
that swells my soul with divine breath of hope. 

With emphasis on inner life of dreams 
I write code from the master-narrative 
designed by Sigmund to provide framework 
for people lost in wilderness of pain 
to transform Wasteland into Wonderland 
where Tiresias performs in the freak show. 

Far from the crowded maze of city streets 
you will find me with no identity 
mounted on smooth rock by mossy stream 
and counting sheep as they transform to cars 
that stream as metal turtles on highways 
who all come to look for America. 

Sailing ebb tide of world unconscious mind, 
I leave all marks of my identity 
behind as clothes discarded by the road 
to strip illusions of my being away 
till I am nothing but the wingless angel 
from whom all humans of the Earth have sprung. 

Gazing in Pool of Narcissus all night, 
I see ghosts of my ancestors as fish 
evolving into who I am today, 
so I replace mask of identity 
as mirror that reflects weird stereotype 
you want to see when you look at my face. 

From fragments of ten thousand shattered masks 
molded from ancient faces of dead gods, 
I create my own new identity 
with old name Surazeus Astarius 
Jesuvius Gothinus as badge 
to shield my soul from radiant glow of fame.