Vulgar Bliss Of Passion

Vulgar Bliss Of Passion
© Surazeus
2024 10 16

To stray in climes where beauty matches fear 
I vainly seek to catch quick beams of light 
that flash from words sad people dare to speak 
more fair in form than sorrows reimbursed 
with image love projects on fractured skies 
too soon for wisdom ripened on dead trees. 

My quick-gazelle eyes see through masks of hate 
entwined with wordless thoughts blind children sell 
for faith forgotten on cold wave-thrashed rocks 
deemed born from egg that Heaven would reject 
to lie numb-souled in long-deserted shrine 
where lonely lyre rings soft with bitter winds. 

Toward sacred hill where lovely fairies dance 
with hungry energy of frantic youth 
I search through shameless night of fluttered wings 
for feeble fountain hidden by grim trees 
where beggars rake from coffined clay fake books 
to prove their Crow God wields gem of true faith. 

If I could bask me in sweet noontide sun 
with joyful play my angel wings afford 
I might resist fierce blast of misery 
that crushes me down flat on pungent Earth 
not strong enough to scope chaste sky of hope 
simple more than land we loathe to leave. 

With dauntless hope to gain eternal life 
I race long labyrinth winding in your minds 
with vulgar bliss of passion I must steal 
to seek ghosts of dead fathers in cool shade 
from maddest mirthful mood composed of keys 
that unlock artless caves of thought control. 

Dear Seraphs gowned in writhing flames of light 
bid I return from underworld of dreams 
to step through mirror portal redesigned 
with costly truth from luxury repaired 
as I traverse your unclaimed wilderness 
through circumambient rhythm reconciled. 

No light winds blow my boat across wild seas 
yet I ride reckless gales of honest pride 
swift past deep sun-grave swirl of angry waves 
toward fleeting shores that evermore recede 
with fervent prayers for absent love contrived 
still falling from glow cloud of faceless gods. 

New shores descried through mist of helpless hope 
invite my journey to their rustic fields 
where flock of ravens flutter deathless wings 
to show my eyes where you wait for my love 
with fragrant blush of pious nonchalance 
because we consummate our soul rebirth.