Harsh Times Of War

Harsh Times Of War
© Surazeus
2025 07 11

Alert to how car engines imitate 
angelic song of waterfalls in moonlight, 
I race through shadows of the lonely woods 
to find glass temple of the laughing god 
so I can save the person I love most 
from losing their face to the tides of time. 

The charming ring of bells at opened door 
startles my heart with anguish of new hope 
when bombs destroy the quaint world we create 
since people fight to play the roles of fate 
yet leave their happy children to grow fierce 
in beautiful ruins of fallen empires. 

Bitter lessons learned in harsh times of war, 
long hidden in bleak hollow of the door, 
leak bloody tears of sorrow at the hour 
when the lame angel who fell from the sky 
returns to seek vengeance against the queen 
who killed anyone who opposed her rule. 

Yet all I want on summer afternoons 
is peaceful hours of timeless lassitude, 
relaxed in soft embrace of your respect 
while we read books of heroes fighting wars 
in lands too far away to be this real 
when helicopters flit across the sky. 

Our shuttered library of mourning ghosts 
reluctantly conceals our naked souls 
when we are dazzled by electric faith 
that swells our hearts with greatness of true love 
till we all dissipate to mindless dust 
that forms foundation of the city maze. 

Elastic shadow of my solar soul 
stretches fiscal strategies of faith 
with trickery of the temporal poltergeist 
who ransacks my brain for lost memories 
to build new empire of glass hospitals 
that heal the sick with music of the spheres. 

Regret for tangled roots of energy 
disburses wealth in splashing rain of faith 
when Jingyi walks along the wooden bridge 
with everything she knows in her white purse 
to kneel before Kwan Yin in temple dome 
who gives her peach of salutary grace. 

Though we vacation on the pristine beach 
far from centers of global politics, 
strolling leisurely lost as we hold hands, 
gangs of angry boys with machine guns run 
through maze of streets to shoot the holy ghost 
where Mary cradles her crucified son.