Fruit We Steal From Fate

Fruit We Steal From Fate
© Surazeus
2025 08 12

This is no time for the dead to sing hymns 
that guide the living to the afterthought 
where apples dangle luridly on limbs 
which interlace strange temples devils sought 
when they tore off masks of humanity 
in revelation of the forlorn toad. 

Yet we will gather on the river shore 
and tell each other we are still alive, 
then give each other fruit we steal from fate 
to seal concentric progress of the gate 
which keeps our garden safe from hungry thieves 
who search all night for where the Mermaid lives. 

The special people with divine god-bones 
perform dramatic anguish of their lives 
while we who crawl in dirt to read white stones 
cater to all their needs in servitude, 
except the jester with the attitude 
who juggles television tubes and knives. 

What new event of shocking certitude 
could I declare with statements forged from truth 
except that humans live in fantasies 
constructed firm from holophrastic lies, 
designed to twist our brains in rainbow spires 
so we sing ancient songs in holy choirs. 

Reluctant to let go mask of my pride, 
which still protects my heart from insolence, 
I open front door of my humble home 
and shout at clouds about their random swirls 
because I am invention of smart girls 
who shaped my personality from mud. 

Thus I object with sly impertinence 
to hostile arrogance disguised with smiles 
when Fear admonishes me with snarky sneers 
that I should be absolute for sweet Death 
through reason of influence from blank skies 
as fool nursed by baseness of valiance. 

Since we exist on countless thousand grains 
that issue out of dust lit by sunbeams, 
we should not strive to gain more than we need 
when our complexions shift to strange effects 
caused by desire to journey beyond time 
as effusions springing from frantic brains. 

Dreaming of my youth that slips long away 
in palsied state of wisdom bought with pain, 
I sell my beauty to affective fate 
denoting disturbance of mental mood 
through expression of primary respect 
trapped in relentless sentence of fake words.