Wordless Anguish Of Truth

Wordless Anguish Of Truth
© Surazeus
2025 10 03

Needless to say that happiness is weird 
which only lonely people need to play 
while we smile for the broken cameras 
which photograph the silence of the mind 
though everything we build has turned to ash 
till angels blare solemn anthems of pain. 

Forgetfulness of angry sunset glow 
reveals streetlamps on naked city streets 
that tremble with wordless anguish of truth 
we choose to share for the falling away 
of wheat we harvest at the midnight hour 
till turn of every season strands our hearts. 

Whoever waits caged in the Wicker Man 
regrets dark curses of his bitter mouth, 
yet stands erect in uniform of pride 
he stole from father of the stagnant state 
in frantic bid to rule the crumbling world 
till great empires collapse in warring tribes. 

Each god who pulses with blood of desire 
will harden into clay of river shores 
when stars fall from the sky of crackling ice 
to crush cathedrals of false piety 
which leaves us drifting over hungry hills 
till songs of seashells echo in the breeze. 

We kneel before hollow statues of gods 
garlanded with red flowers of despair 
by sweet Ophelia wearing tattered gown 
to play wise Justice with blindfolded eyes 
who declares birthright of the bleeding soil 
till everyone learns to breathe with one voice. 

Outside the haven walls of fragile homes 
we linger in the moment of insight 
on signless roads that lead our eager steps 
beyond the far horizon of respect 
framed by ontology of selfless love 
till memories drown us in tears of contempt. 

Our faceless shadows attempt to escape 
constraining cage of flesh bound by the soul 
which leaves us staggering in the temple hall, 
hearts split between belonging and exile 
beneath the pride-stiffened sky of soul dust 
till flames consume the world view we invent. 

Dust of our bodies obscures the blood moon 
when warplanes scream above vast maze of myths 
to bomb opinions through theology 
which blasts the promise of justice for peace 
still pulses raw in bones of our glass souls 
till laughter desecrates our dreamless world.