Hollow Statues Of Gods

Hollow Statues Of Gods
© Surazeus
2026 06 20

I wonder as I wander city streets, 
where bright stars are not visible at night, 
what mortal spirit of human ambition 
could still possess hollow statues of gods 
with intense passion to participate 
in fierce games that win temporary fame. 

Each book I find on stale library shelf, 
that writhes with ghosts of faceless characters 
who wander vain adventures of despair, 
maps signless road on landscape of false faith 
where social heroes meet their tragic fates 
with howling anguish of the victimized. 

Yet books I grab transform to wingless owls 
that shriek loud ideological creeds 
reverberating through speakers on poles 
in harsh command for prisoners to march 
down starless tunnels of Platonic mines 
where they extract concepts with bleeding hands. 

If I request you call me Ishmael, 
because I cannot celebrate myself, 
then you should know I will not stop for Death 
though she chase me across the signless waste 
where I find Lolita, light of my life, 
living in the trailer park with our son. 

Because I may never meet the best minds 
of my generation, destroyed by faith 
in the afterlife that will never happen, 
I should argue these are the best of times 
which always comes after the worst of times, 
so I can dance graveward without my furies. 

If I decide to not be lonelier 
without the loneliness of company, 
I may spend half my days in wordless light 
through passion imperceptible as grief 
to reprogram my wakened memory 
without remorse for actions I perform. 

I cannot find my real self in this mess 
of puzzle pieces from unwritten poems 
scattered in fragments of psychotic vibes 
from holy scriptures of the idolized, 
till I melt their codes in brave fires of truth 
and translate them to hymns blind angels sing. 

With ghosts of all my younger selves I stand 
on shore of the wide world and ponder why 
our love and fame still sink to nothingness, 
so I dwell in ruined temple of truth 
as guard over hollow statues of gods 
who stare at me with hungry eyes of death.