True To My Secret Self
© Surazeus
2025 12 12

True to my secret self against all odds,
I savor sparkle of mist on my face
from endless melodies of waterfalls
that measure vastness of my consciousness
wide as the swirling sea with each new chance
by which I mold weird fortune into fate.

Down endless street of arrogant dismay
I walk past swords of angels made of flame
to follow Morning Star of righteousness
while floating wingless in hypnotic trance
by singing hymns that wake the dead from dream
who wonder at the blood that stains my coat.

Dressed in black lace dress of elegant grace,
Death walks beside me on my road of life,
revealing beauty in each mundane thing
since sunlight glows on walls of silent stone
so I clap hands in rhythm with sea waves
because the wind takes all my parts away.

Time scatters me on tragic plain of faith
though I inspire celestial breath with fear
so people born long after I have died
assemble fragments of my memories
to build their own new personality
encased in faceless monument of Me.

Because each Me I live as each new day
emerges bright from stone of haughty grief,
I drink from sparkling fountain in the square
while strangers watch my face appear from rain
so I strum lyre of Mercury with joy
through call for truth in valley of my heart.

Secure in realm of sudden consciousness
that sings through tree of affectionate trust,
I publish our undeniable tale
based on sincere candor of crumbling cliffs
because divine insight broadcast by Death
remains unpublished through dire prophecy.

Trained as calm architect of healthy homes,
I build cathedral of human despair
where sorrows embodied in human minds
correct assertion of the holy fool
through maladjusted hours of wizardry
because rain writes my misery in flowers.

Without strong angel wings on which to fly,
swooping high over hot telephone lines,
I study nonsense of the human heart
that wants true love against reason of faith
so we share drinks in moonlight on the snow
while never exposing failures in tales.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/12/…

Orpheus teaches classes at the Zarathian Institute of Psychotic Anxiety to help people remain true to their secret self despite obsession with social success.

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