Walls Of Our Sacrifice
© Surazeus
2025 07 03

Look in my heart and you will find the road
that leads to garden we build with our hands
where children of our devotion play free,
safe inside strong walls of our sacrifice,
till gangs of thugs bearing rifles of fear
storm our paradise to control our dreams.

Water flows as rivers in winding curves
down mountains, across plains, and out to sea,
so I follow the birds soaring on wind
where people gathered in towns on the shore
share feast from harvest of their daily work
and sing the stories of their bitter lives.

Though we may settle on the river shore
to build houses with gardens by the road,
we only stay to raise our children well
for several generations of new souls
till we continue down the signless road
for we are nomads that flow with the rivers.

Our journey ever onward toward the sun
is sacred way of living we observe,
forever walking with joy and despair
to find our Promised Land beyond the hills
that shimmers as illusion of world peace
which always vanishes as we approach.

True destination of our chosen fate
gleams ever distantly in half-seen dreams
so we bring light into the grotto cave
to bake bread with gold barley of the field,
then paint the story of our endless quest
with blood of the lamb on the gemless wall.

We carve from stone of possibility
idols of our heroes with dream-bright eyes
who lead us through the waste land of despair,
but we pass on down winding roads of hope
and leave their statues in the cave of faith
with our broken hearts beating in their hands.

On journey of our feet to find our home
we stumble in secret valley of truth
where horses graze among apricot trees,
so after we dwell there ten thousand years
we leave that hidden paradise behind,
yet keep its true name secret from rich men.

When you arrive at my home on the river
you will see that I have stood on this spot
one hundred million years of flowing time
with my heart blooming under the vast sky,
for I am dazed by beauty of this world
that returns after wars destroy our homes.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus journeys from Gui Lin to Oregon over 80,000 years to give me magic lyre of Mercury so I can keep on singing the epic of humanity.

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