Heaviness Of Unknown Truth © Surazeus 2024 12 06 Waking up to the heart-arresting sound of gunshots when the walls of Jericho crumble from revolutionary horns, I hear only silence of quaint suburbs tinged with rapid cadence in cheerful chirp of the chestnut-sided warbler at dawn. Yet strange violin of your broken heart follows me at night down ten thousand streets where angels of beauty, whose voices ring in rain, have drowned in rivers of our hopes, weighed down by heaviness of unknown truth that calls us with soft melodies of fear. Till Phantom, strange cat with serpent-gold eyes, appears in smudged window of our shared fate, we wonder at view of the world we see from safe haven of frail security, for she assures us with her anxious purr that we will never see approach of Death. Dangerous softness of fate-summoned waves reveals strange hugeness of our broken world, cluttered with debris of lost memories restrained by silence of their nameless bones which our ancestors latticed into Earth with abrupt crashing of reluctant time. Solemn autopsy of numberless homes, conducted by our cold objective moon, exposes trauma twisted into words strewn among daisies on rotten church lawns too distant for grief from shadowy rain to remember why we visit our graves. Stuck in ceremony of frozen time, with faint resemblance of my maskless ghost hungry for hope, I choose to redefine true nature of our fraught relationship as geared toward honest laughter of the clock that echoes inside mirror of our eyes. Hostage to our passive-aggressive love, we ask stenographer of crooked rules to record apologies orphans cry, signified by crumbling cities of faith dismembered by ambitions of rich men to squander wealth from suffering of the dead. Though boundless sky of opportunity belongs to me with heart of my lost love, I claim no ownership of fertile land yet soil of compassion blooms by my hand when I produce food for tables of wealth which bear the heaviness of unknown truth.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Orpheus weighs the heaviness of unknown truth to measure maturity of sorrow constructing empire of our memories that rings with song of the chestnut-sided warbler of fate.
ReplyDelete