Promised Land Of Peace
© Surazeus
2025 06 24

Through gossamer veil of late evening mist
I leap to taste the pomegranate moon,
but fruit of passion floats beyond my reach.
Stars crumble into glass shards on the beach
that flash in curses concealed in the rune
to burn as your heart pulsing in my fist.

Foraging for apple snails of regret,
the black-winged Limpkin with star-twinkling eyes
gallops swiftly away with ungainly gait.
Kneeling before the locked heavenly gate
that glitters blood-red with diamonds of lies,
I transform as ghost of the ethernet.

Awake at dawn in the ruins of Rome,
Aurora holds star-gold light in her mouth
and threatens to bestow fame on the fool.
Forging gold beams into rings with his tool,
Vulcan plots how to take over the South
and build new empire where goatherders roam.

When water in the cauldron of my thoughts
boils with rage from flames of state tyranny,
I fight the gangs of thugs kidnapping souls.
Ill-fated fortune of my psychic roles
blooms ripe in apple of epiphany
so I wear party masks of long-dead gods.

When lightning strikes the tower of lost tales,
Selene stands in temple of fake time
to prophesy fall of the tyrant king.
Floating lightly on soft angelic wing,
she sings with voice of knowledge at the chime
that rings before destruction of sea gales.

Adrift on raft of honesty at sea,
while searching for the Promised Land of Peace,
we flee from war that engulfs our homeland.
The female Dunlin bird rests on my hand
as I lament that cruel wars never cease,
keeping calm since I wield the secret key.

Though antique towers crown the watery glade
where Science studies nature of our world,
I sport with joy in happy fields of faith.
Possessed by fierce ambition of the wraith,
I perform my role as new cosmic herald
till energy of hope begins to fade.

Acquainted with the light of solemn rain,
I walk the endless maze of city streets
to find stage of my tragic destiny.
The luminary clock of ecstasy
records accomplishment of noble feats
that I perform with nothing left to gain.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/06/…

Orpheus sells maps to refugees of wars that show the way to the Promised Land of Peace that no one ever finds.

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