Lost On Ghostless Moors
© Surazeus
2026 10 01

By stretching my mind across centuries
to wind my heart with frantic memories
my soul becomes the boundless sky of doors
through which I wander lost on ghostless moors
to gather blossoms from the playful breeze
so I forge trauma into psychic keys.

Because I am calm enemy of hate,
tricked to play happy by swindle of fate,
I am uninterested in fraught game
of who suffers most to achieve false fame,
so I transcend stark agony of pain
by floating wingless in electric rain.

If I cast hex of calibrated spells
through inefficient laughter of church bells,
I may revive my equestrian heart
long enough to check fortune-twisting chart
against status of episcopal faith,
fabricated through lust of the Star Wraith.

Since I may inherit Book of Weird Lies,
composed by children of dynamic spies,
I may attempt to grow angelic wings
through spiral sparkle of demonic rings
that proves my soul is native to this land
as frightened rebel of divine command.

Concealed by silence of old broken truth,
designed by ravens acting out of ruth,
I analyze consequence of my deed,
then adjudicate fault through mental need
to exercise free will within constraints
applied by nature to create more saints.

Through ballads, strictly coded to express
moral values that conjure happiness,
I document events of this wild age,
performed by sly mortals on global stage,
depicting tragic passions of blind gods
whose arrogance transforms them into toads.

Across the waste land of eccentric rules
children wander nowhere past fractured schools
to learn of freedom for the wounded soul
who studies secrets of the flashing whole
so they can sell anger in holy books
because temple priests are restaurant cooks.

With tale-tattered quill, from my crippled wing,
I chronicle our age of suffering
by giving voice to the marginalized
who storm Heaven though they are unbaptized,
then compile ten billion stories with runes
that dissipate into soul-haunting tunes.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/10/…

Orpheus reads poetry from his Book of Weird Lies at the Bookstore of Graveling Fame where hordes of star-eyed followers gasp with awe at his satires against wealthy elites.

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