First Wordless Song

First Wordless Song
© Surazeus
2026 03 27

When I wake in marble temple of fire 
after searching the world for angel wings, 
I hear first wordless song of aching hope 
ring out from voices of your nameless souls 
who wander lost on signless road of fear 
after your homes are bombed to memories. 

Frantic with urgency in will to live 
that drives my body forth in graceful dance, 
I express first wordless song of despair 
to evade horror of unending death 
when burning stones, that fall from silver sky 
of mocking crows, smash our homes into dust. 

If ghost of wisdom from the glowing cloud 
descends to Earth on vast demonic wings, 
I dream first wordless song of bitter truth 
that mask of Narcissus hides my real face 
with holy shimmer of aesthetic faith 
defined by Sibyl in tower of bones. 

Though Humble Gardener of the Faceless God 
orders chaos of lust in garden grove, 
I compose first wordless song of respect 
for Mountain Prophetess in Cave of Dreams 
who speaks with many voices of the world 
to translate sorrow into psalms of faith. 

Hidden in small house with infinite books 
about how Newton measures gravity, 
I drink first wordless song of apple wine 
spiced with cinnamon of angelic brains 
because the Earth is cracked in thirteen worlds 
controlled by Nebuchadnezzar and Lear. 

Shocked with obvious insight about how 
religions are fan clubs of mortal gods, 
I translate first wordless song into jokes 
earnest priests preach in cathedral halls 
to prove their Lord will someday rule the world 
because they try to kill everyone else. 

Seared by wrath of the electric storm god 
who bombs cities of angels with contempt, 
I forge first wordless song into airplane 
which I fly high above gold glowing clouds 
to find palace of Heaven built of crystal stones 
where I find nothing but eternity. 

Almost reaching Heaven with trembling hand 
which exists nowhere but in my sponge brain, 
I record first wordless song in weird spells 
as mirror that refracts ideas of things 
which spring from seeds with no purpose of being 
except anxious fear which sparks me to sing.