Vale Of Singing Skulls

Vale Of Singing Skulls
© Surazeus
2025 05 04

Hidden in strict asylum of my heart, 
my hopes for happiness sprout demon wings 
and flap away in twilight of lost time 
to swarm across the vale of singing skulls 
which represent ancestors of my genes 
who call to me from tomb of the blind god. 

When I walk around in streets of the world 
I see countless strangers whose secret names 
I will never hear spoken by the wind 
though they are real bodies of flesh and blood 
driven by unknown hopes for happiness 
to live full lives I know nothing about. 

Esther lounges on mansion balcony, 
dressed in leather sandals, jeans, and pink shirt, 
sipping wine as her fingers caress flowers, 
then smiles brightly with moon-black eyes of joy 
as I photograph essence of her soul 
that she will gaze at sixty years from now. 

Intertwining our fingers with shy smiles, 
we cuddle close together as soft breeze 
scents our two bodies with sweet pheromones 
so I nestle nose in long curly hair 
to smell aroma of her gentle soul 
as we share romantic hug of respect. 

Slipping large round sunglasses on her face, 
Esther assumes movie-star stance to shield 
fragile state of her heart with nonchalance 
from hungry attention of loyal fans 
who adore her cool unconcern for fame 
earned through performance of tragic-fate roles. 

From billions of people crowding the globe 
one person emerges with special face 
that sparks intense respect of honest love 
when our eyes connect invisible souls 
with long scarlet thread of celestial fate 
that binds our bodies in children we make. 

More delicate that moon-silver raindrops, 
our separate souls fold undulating layers 
of vibrant memories in precious glow 
with divine treasure tuned from formulas 
which calculate our romantic routine 
securing foundation of our love life. 

As carpenter of innocent respect, 
I construct cradle for our new-born child 
who sprouts angel wings over twenty years 
and flies away around the spinning world 
till she returns with diamond eye of god 
that lights our secret vale of singing skulls.