Ledger Of Failed Projects
© Surazeus
2025 08 14

My name is incarnation of the sky
that reflects faces of people who search
nowhere for the ledger of failed projects
in formulas written with hot swamp mud
so we can hear the silent voice of God
that never speaks the name we cherish well.

Our skeletons of glass dance in the rain
to hold aggressive gusts of lonely wind
with hand of honesty no one respects
despite the woman in the howling train
who sings strange wisdom of the burning book
so I can see the face of god again.

She carves excessive elegy of faith
in veil of dust that swirls in ecstasy
deep in green silence of exploding trees
because we keep on dying before dawn
when sunlight strikes blow at the gloom of time
while counting casualties in civil wars.

Sweet bluster of brass cannons in the mist
expresses sorrow for each soul who dies
as flicker of shadow gleaned from my eyes
that sparks songs on the radio of fate
where faceless ghosts on mournful landscape vote
for demon hidden in the singing book.

Infected with experience of hope,
we search for hillside where all knowledge ends
to find how love springs from the anguished heart
trapped in library of the burning book
where faceless ghosts preserve dreams of lost scrolls
in glowing embers of seraphic eyes.

Adrift on great emptiness of nine seas,
I peer through spectacles of glowing glass
to read verse riddles of atomic nodes
describing solemn artifacts of faith
which I cast carelessly in divine flames
when I push boldly in fog of the future.

Fierce consciousness that shimmers in my brain
scores notes of music in grand symphonies
to praise demonic child of wordless dreams
who opens wide every museum door
to release faceless ghosts of my ancestors
who gather in coliseum of hope.

Though candle of truth flickers at midnight
she guides the seraphim in silver gowns
with eerie music of the golden ring
that spirals tight with old ancestral genes
preserving all our memories in tale code
that writhe in vision of the world I make.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/08/…

Orpheus wanders endless museum where nothing man has made has ever been preserved except in shadows of sponge-wet brains.

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