Shriveled Orange Of Ennui

Shriveled Orange Of Ennui
© Surazeus
2026 08 02

I steal the shriveled orange of ennui 
to eat tormented pleasure of sweet Death 
who knows strange passions of my pulsing brain, 
filled with the writhing worms of humble pride, 
which helps me paint on canvas of my fate 
inspiring vision of this teeming world. 

That star-eyed alchemist of ennui 
transforms my captive soul with bitter faith 
from hungry wanderer across the land 
to blind bard singing grand heroic tales 
by plucking taut strings of my naive heart 
with rotten fruit of charming pulchritude. 

Soul vaporized by his hermetic art, 
I lavish vows of faith in crumbling fane, 
concealed by veil of spirit-tangled vines, 
to feed my tame remorse with pungent faith 
that I may yet evade sharp blade of Death 
who stalks my steps since dark hour of my birth. 

Intent on sacred mission to observe 
weird mysteries beneath dark ocean waves, 
I sail bold ship of curiosity 
between wild whirlpool and snake in the cave 
to sacrifice my faith I treasure most 
for swift ascension to the Promised Land. 

Though I am kinsman to the glowing clouds, 
I never scoff at archers who ask why 
I wear the wounded albatross of faith 
around my neck with penitential grace, 
yet they mock comical ineptitude 
revealed by clumsy strike at cliff of fear. 

Each morning when I wake from ennui 
of frantic dreams, refracted by cracked lens 
of my conceptual telescope, I ask 
my wretched muse if she knows secret code 
that would assist perception of my heart 
when I discern mad horror of world war. 

No wise god with englamored face of fame 
haunts visions of my fractured eyes at dawn 
through mask of my personal succubus 
who gives me ancient syllables of milk 
for me to drink blood of the harvest lord 
whose bones form foundation of my empire. 

I still live under vast and columned vaults, 
tinged with soft glow of television screens, 
where I sense mystic force of gasoline 
that fuels the piston engine of my heart 
so I chant sublime harmonies of hope 
to praise the splendid light of secret grief.