False Roads Of Innocence

False Roads Of Innocence
© Surazeus
2026 05 30

Untwisting breakdown of the fragile hour 
we swallow stones of dream-exploding hopes, 
preserved as mushroom, bellows marginal 
to frantic wisdom shot from bowls of rage 
too fast against declensions, unpossessed 
by freedom-ordered words disguised as ghosts. 

Contained by complex articles of faith, 
too soon to craft new lecture on muckwork, 
my pulsing heart chews maps of ardent eggs 
smudged red with portents of forced arrogance, 
though we dance through Inferno of regret 
in threadbare souls extinct in cleansing rain. 

Concealed blade of my alabaster heart 
thirsts bleakly for resilient memories 
teeming thick with unwatched electric sparks 
from atoms smashed against my spasmic skull, 
still starving for bland obligations bought 
by trembling hands of futile arguments. 

Diminishing warmth of starkly blurred rain 
at scuttled promises that should retreat, 
discarded on false roads of innocence 
despite determination to endure, 
alerts my thoughts to understand strange words 
that disappear when I shout lies at Death. 

Against advantage purchased from blind death 
I preen with fractured confidence of stones 
to argue for hardships that mold our frames 
fierce as steel gears screwed in engine blocks 
fueled by dark possibilities still ignored 
by flash of sunlight cracking doors of fate. 

Pressed hot against vast world of spinning fear 
by radiant gravity of muddied clouds, 
I wonder if my tarmac-soldered brain 
could drink disoriented waves of hope 
fast enough to map lost trail of ghosts 
where angels slip and break their haughty wings. 

Young boy who bikes on dusty narrow road 
through small town, not on any Texas map, 
stops by college library after noon 
to write on yellow pad of paper spells 
contrived from plots of television shows 
about Sad Cowboy who explores the stars. 

Young girl who walks beside tree-mirrored pool 
through temple complex, in Cambodian hills, 
ascends on Garuda with rainbow wings 
to scatter flowers on the Texas plain 
where Phoebus gazes with astonished faith 
as Vasundhara takes his hand in hers.