Ghosts Trapped In Wells

Ghosts Trapped In Wells
© Surazeus
2026 04 26

Associated works of trashed respect 
delude the brave to believe their strong souls 
need no wings to escape death. Ardent faith 
fails to frame fantasy with real thought codes 
as if sparrows are no longer realists 
who translate divine truth for troubadours. 

Fountains in city squares ask loyalists 
to find and map rebels on hidden roads. 
Mothers, who linger without tears in doors 
of vain hope, knit sweaters for the frail wraith 
weeping in the garden. Demons expect 
everyone to memorize their new roles. 

Mixed up with pieces of puzzles, unsolved 
by blind children who invent languages, 
my private words escape from fragile shells 
of subjective truth. I prefer to swim 
deep into blue silence of the Dream Sea 
to find your name tangled in cable wires. 

Therefore, fill my holy grail to the brim 
so I may drink blood from ghosts trapped in wells 
of serpentine runes. Death directs mute choirs 
of angels who perform as hostages. 
I like to study life forms that evolved 
fish to wingless angel, which designs Me. 

Exceptional skill in weaving stale words 
in vibrant tapestries of fairy tales 
traps the jester in quest to explain why. 
Yet the young policeman in the small town 
believes his mission to be just the same 
as the one Superman performs on stage. 

Since we are trapped in our commercial game 
of purchasing products from the grim clown, 
we will barbecue demons in the cage 
of honesty. Icarus learns to fly 
by jumping off the cliff of hungry whales 
who ask Jesus if he can make them birds. 

Reverse psychology will never work 
on flamboyant Bacchus in scarlet gown 
who cries in the kitchen. Electric clock 
that mutates above the castle fireplace 
sternly asks him why he abandoned Eve 
halfway up the mountain in freezing snow. 

While baking apple pies by shipping dock, 
Eve spies Bacchus who pretends not to lurk 
in the bookstore where he buys human face 
to fool the Furies. They attend the show 
starring the Ballerina and the Clown, 
yet no one in the audience wants to grieve.