Moon Mirror Of Fate

Moon Mirror Of Fate
© Surazeus
2026 01 02

If the cloud is still free from moral guilt 
after fifty years floating in his brain, 
then she will serve no sacrificial cakes 
to the boy who turns stones into snowflakes, 
because he loves Andromeda with pride 
though she clamps bulletless rifle of fame. 

He plays trill sonata the devil wrote 
because she searches for the flower seed 
that sprouts from tangled words in holy books 
which no one anymore takes time to read 
though he waits on the bridge of somewhere else 
to play the aviator she would wed. 

He thinks the strange sky is hilarious, 
but she waits in old theater of stars 
for him to find her puzzle in the pond 
enclosed inside walls of the grocery store 
where he carves horses from fierce bars of soap 
to build his army and claim the White House. 

She decides that their trees by the dirt road, 
where angels of ice dance in blazing sunlight, 
should be partners in their chess game of love, 
so they lie where the honeysuckles bloom 
and talk about what their first kiss should mean 
as if blind men decide how they should live. 

Laughing with delight at his fear of faith, 
she draws admission ticket to her heart, 
so he gives her glass of water with grin 
that causes every clock on Earth to spin 
faster than leaves that flutter in fake wind, 
then discovers America again. 

She reminds him of what she said before, 
that we are half air and half dirt of hope, 
so they study snowy map of despair 
and decide how they should open the door 
that leads them to the land of empty homes 
where children disappear in words of books. 

We cannot win the game of broken trees, 
she whispers when he floats on the moon breeze, 
so they hold hands with trust in numbers game 
that keeps their bodies rooted to the Earth 
as they transform to piston-engine cars 
that drive endless circles under dead stars. 

Where have we all gone the past fifty years, 
he asks the ghost in moon mirror of fate, 
since the cheerful cloud of guilt first appeared 
above lost temple of the holy land 
where she still floats one inch above the Earth 
for she designs the dream world where we live.