Fractured Twilight Zone

Fractured Twilight Zone
© Surazeus
2025 11 27

I hear sad crickets reciting their poems 
in fractured twilight zone of loneliness, 
their domestic concerns of broken hearts 
echoing softly through pictureless rooms 
as they cross iced Bridge of Forgetfulness 
on their way to Heaven without Dream Charts. 

I hear in wordless lyrics they recite 
fragmented feelings about people they knew 
whose faces fade from innocence of time, 
so I follow clandestine clues to light 
that shimmers subtler than sharp rainbow hue 
with heart-enchanting vision of the chime. 

I want to empathize with their despair 
when my brain channels emotional beams 
through radio waves of psychic regret 
which they express in clever metaphor, 
but I would wander too lost in their dreams 
to find my own way beyond their vignette. 

I pause on signless road of anywhere 
to gaze at bright stars scattered in the sky 
which my brain constellates in long-dead souls, 
so from my heart wells energy to care 
for how they suffer when I ponder why 
all humans get stuck in their private roles. 

I catch each puzzle piece of broken lives 
that gleam in raindrop tears of memories, 
then study isolated anecdotes 
to comprehend how humanity strives 
against fixed fate of gear-clocked tragedies, 
and thus arrange sweet lies in clever quotes. 

I listen closely to what words they use 
describing anxious moments they perform 
in awkward scenes of plays they feel trapped in 
to solve conundrum of the cynic Muse 
who untwists morals of the social norm 
to free each spirit from their mannequin. 

Ghost of Narcissus whispers in their ears 
to trick their souls with anguish of desire 
so they write poems in futile quest for fame, 
instead of analyzing treasured tears 
produced by vanity, to join world choir 
that leaves them stranded in the losing game. 

I wear soul-twisted mask of Lucifer 
to bear high Lamp of Liberty with hope 
lost souls can see bright sun of honesty 
till they realize I am grim Jupiter 
who trains scared refugees with tricks to cope 
when poets preserve their tales in tapestry.