Last Son Of Endymion

Last Son Of Endymion
© Surazeus
2025 10 22

If I consider how time twists my brain 
with ardent pain of blatant inner peace, 
I translate fears that I may cease to be 
to brave romantic character of faith 
who plays with shadows of the magic mind 
to navigate weird chance of fake success. 

Lost in vast labyrinth of holy books, 
where I encounter ghosts of noble gods, 
I wear masks fallen from museum walls 
to live fraught alien experience 
so I expand scope of knowledge to play 
alert attention to how fame fools men. 

Since loveliness of beauty will increase 
with each new bloom from nothingness of fate, 
I breathe intense respect of fractured joy 
to channel cosmic soul of mindless stars 
through fragile anguish of my hungry flesh 
so I dance freely in green world of streams. 

Encoding rich grandeur of mortal doom 
in serious satires about bitter kings, 
I drink sweet wine of tragic romance tales 
that praise the mighty dead with mocking hymns 
through cheering light that animates our souls 
with boundless beauty of exquisite death. 

Reborn as last son of Endymion 
to walk the signless road of global fame, 
I map confusing maze of mystic myths 
detailing frantic quests of clownish kings 
who think they can assert legal control 
over how people pursue happiness. 

Surprised awake by martial trumpet blow, 
that rings against stone walls of paradise, 
I drive my car on crowded road of ghosts 
on grand adventure to the office cube 
where I solve riddles tinged with sad despair 
to map whole history of the human race. 

Face veiled by psychic mist demons design, 
I rearrange fragments of puzzling facts 
through infinite array of framed concepts 
based firm on pure ontology of fate 
that beams from steadfast star of splendid love 
we share with strange unchangeable desire. 

What brave Elysium we have always known 
could welcome singers to lush flowered fields 
who gather at round table of concern 
to hear jokes blind astrologers dare tell 
which prophesy reign of the Mermaid Queen 
who weeps at how pain twists my fertile brain.