Faceless Ghost Of Thought

Faceless Ghost Of Thought
© Surazeus
2026 09 14

Trees speak the most ancient language of faith 
so I love to walk with them in twilight glow 
and listen as their long-winded tales flow 
to shape creation of the multiverse 
from dreams all conscious creatures leave behind 
when we breathe sorrow and pleasure of time. 

When faithful people of the world assemble 
in shady forest of tale-whispering trees, 
I feel my heart swell huge as mountain clouds 
with selfish loveliness of fragile flowers 
that teach how beauty blooms from misery, 
therefore I prance about with gleeful joy. 

With brush of angel feathers dipped in blood 
of half-dead gods, I paint trees on brick walls 
of abandoned factories in city maze 
to cast dark shadow of nature on streets 
where people wander lost in daze of faith 
till they drive to the mountains and cry. 

Cows speak the lonely language of hope 
so I explain to daughter of my heart 
that words of thought are molded by our tongues 
which shape air into concepts we envision 
so we extend our hands in gloom of fear 
to name all things with angel words God speaks. 

While birds chirp in tall trees of flapping leaves 
I sit in wood fane Phoebus built for me 
and copy words of epics he composed 
on skin of devils he killed with thought-spear, 
which prophesy our days of dream machines 
powered by flashing wires of imitation. 

Though I cannot see results of my actions 
designing fate through choices I perform, 
I know the end state of the universe 
created by beginning flash of love 
that sweetens endless hours of hungry faith 
when I explore valley of singing skulls. 

Euphoric song of trees on river shores 
reveal faint glimpse of horror we expect 
from codified annulment of desire 
when time unravels concept of our being 
by deconstructing frame of chemicals 
so we become the faceless ghost of thought. 

I walk this spinning globe into bright dream 
by shaping virtual model in my mind 
that maps landscape where dramatic events 
occur at clash of angels fighting gods 
for whose tale shapes world view of yet-born souls 
who listen to our voices in new trees.