Play The Sacrificial Lamb
© Surazeus
2026 06 20

Perpetual patience of portentous pride
teaches my heart endurance of despair
since I will wait in shadow cave of hope
ten thousand years to meet my love again
whose sorrow causes summer snow to fall
in swirls that alienate grave of my heart.

Since I was born as pilgrim of the heart,
I bear passionless grief of forlorn faith
as aging ghost in dry month of lost books,
searching for the giver of breath and bread
whose soul dissolves into sway of the sea
where Cetus rots in swarm of buzzing flies.

Though I go down to my ship at dawn,
with intention of the curious soul
to set keel to breakers on the godless sea
of bitter reckoning, I sit on stone
of fractured memories to catch the rain
so I can drink strange sorrow never mine.

One thousand angels descend to my heart
with gift of wisdom I choose to ignore,
heart numb from pungent scent of petrichor,
and ask if I believe I still exist,
but I ask for tall ship with billowed sails
and star to steer my heart to paradise.

I pray to mighty gods in faceless clouds
for just one summer in the evening land
where I may sing with lover of my heart
till she goes gentle into that good night
and leaves me stranded on the misty isle
where I lie etherized on hill of skulls.

Though April seems to be the cruelest month,
breeding lilacs out of faith-rotten hearts,
I shall ignore desire that memory stirs
in mellow season of sweet fruitfulness
when mind of winter shields my fragile heart
from wordless suffering of the wanderer.

If I should go and catch the falling star
that fractures world view we too long held dear,
I may meet brave ghost of my ideal youth
in moonlit grove on dark Plutonian shore
where I reach out my withered hand to claim
weird fruit of wisdom from the Golden Bough.

If I should take your sins into my heart
with plan to guide our state to paradise
by building Heaven in chaos of Hell,
then I will play the sacrificial lamb
whose death may heal the wounded fisher king
which you watch on the television show.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/06/…

Orpheus sits with Odysseus by his old rotten boat on the ocean shore and listens as he recounts his adventures in search of the Holy Grail.

#Poetry #Poem #Pastoral #Necropastoral #MetaModernism #Transrealism #NewSublimity #NewRomanticism #AmericanDream #Cinemism #Existentialism #Surrealism #NegativeCapability #NewGnosticism #MetaRealism #NewTranscendentalism #Astarism