Wordless Anguish Of Truth
© Surazeus
2025 10 03

Needless to say that happiness is weird
which only lonely people need to play
while we smile for the broken cameras
which photograph the silence of the mind
though everything we build has turned to ash
till angels blare solemn anthems of pain.

Forgetfulness of angry sunset glow
reveals streetlamps on naked city streets
that tremble with wordless anguish of truth
we choose to share for the falling away
of wheat we harvest at the midnight hour
till turn of every season strands our hearts.

Whoever waits caged in the Wicker Man
regrets dark curses of his bitter mouth,
yet stands erect in uniform of pride
he stole from father of the stagnant state
in frantic bid to rule the crumbling world
till great empires collapse in warring tribes.

Each god who pulses with blood of desire
will harden into clay of river shores
when stars fall from the sky of crackling ice
to crush cathedrals of false piety
which leaves us drifting over hungry hills
till songs of seashells echo in the breeze.

We kneel before hollow statues of gods
garlanded with red flowers of despair
by sweet Ophelia wearing tattered gown
to play wise Justice with blindfolded eyes
who declares birthright of the bleeding soil
till everyone learns to breathe with one voice.

Outside the haven walls of fragile homes
we linger in the moment of insight
on signless roads that lead our eager steps
beyond the far horizon of respect
framed by ontology of selfless love
till memories drown us in tears of contempt.

Our faceless shadows attempt to escape
constraining cage of flesh bound by the soul
which leaves us staggering in the temple hall,
hearts split between belonging and exile
beneath the pride-stiffened sky of soul dust
till flames consume the world view we invent.

Dust of our bodies obscures the blood moon
when warplanes scream above vast maze of myths
to bomb opinions through theology
which blasts the promise of justice for peace
still pulses raw in bones of our glass souls
till laughter desecrates our dreamless world.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/10/…

Orpheus prays before statue of Saraswati that gleams white with sixteen arms to symbolize her power to administer justice with equality of objective insight.

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