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Thursday, June 19, 2025

Goalless Road Of Hope

Goalless Road Of Hope
© Surazeus
2025 06 19

Once I encompass desert of despair, 
proceeding on the goalless road of hope, 
I feel unconscious jury of my heart 
expand beyond blazing width of the sun 
with accurate attention of One Mind 
to estimate strange bitterness of pain. 

Though ignorance is angel of my heart 
that pilots me along the goalless road 
past apparitions of our faceless souls 
that bloom as petals on the wet black bough, 
I build conceptual church of solitude 
on burdened landscape of the shadowed moon. 

Chromatic opposite of my pale brain 
vibrates with fractured shards of arrogance 
that spirals out from core of my heart void 
with rich embellishment of wordless wind 
through cyclic whiteness of stark assonance 
as subtle sorrows rippling on the pond. 

Though I indulge myself with faithful fear, 
contrived by rich refusals of respect, 
no proverb can suffice to allocate 
extensive puzzles scattered on hot sand 
across the flat horizon of my hope 
because I hone my heart to edge of time. 

My body maps the goalless road of fate 
from birth to death in progress beyond why 
by plotting course across the restless sea 
as floating frame of shining molecules, 
programmed with light to sing the river tune 
which binds emotional reserve with love. 

I see myself costumed in robe of fire 
each time I enter stage of time and play 
role of dire fate I choose to sacrifice 
my mortal soul with shrewd sincerity 
and save the world from horror of desire 
though I continue to consider why. 

When torrents of regressive rain disturbs 
heart-tangled roots of ancient sprawling oaks, 
they tumble down the rugged hill of faith 
to crush the howling skulls of vampire gods, 
exposing privacy of secret thoughts 
which ravens steal from corpse of my blind soul. 

Lost in dark maze of asphalt city streets, 
drenched in relentless drizzle of cold rain, 
I growl with primal dragon soul of lust 
to fuel aggressive energy of power 
so, reborn as Apollo from cracked Earth, 
I strum the lyre of Mercury and sing. 



2 comments:

  1. Orpheus visits Emily Dickinson in her flower garden where she serves him tea and crumpets while they chat about despair amid the butterflies.

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  2. No Man can compass a Despair
    477
    Emily Dickinson

    No Man can compass a Despair—
    As round a Goalless Road
    No faster than a Mile at once
    The Traveller proceed—

    Unconscious of the Width—
    Unconscious that the Sun
    Be setting on His progress—
    So accurate the One

    At estimating Pain—
    Whose own—has just begun—
    His ignorance—the Angel
    That pilot Him along—

    ReplyDelete