Ride Carousel Of Fate © Surazeus 2026 01 25 If the sky is doorway to everywhere, opened wide by joy of my aching heart, then I will soar into immensity with awe at breathless beauty of all light which I perceive with mind-expanding scope of conscious passion for honest respect. If owl of my heart, perched on broken branch of faith in cosmic energy of love, stirs ancient wings of silent urgency, then I will find pure egg of soul rebirth gleaming with crystal eyes inside my brain as psychic battery charged with solemn words. If holy cow of spirit-fueling milk arrives at dawn across the misty field, pulling wagon of bricks baked in the sun, then I will build new temple for our god who holds the spotted dragon egg of faith with tender care of time-unspooling hope. If opal gleaming on the signless road, containing eyes of every long-dead god, radiates pure wisdom of eccentric books, then I will dig sacred river canal so we can irrigate vast fields of wheat that forms foundation of our empire state. If angels guard our bodies while we vote for who will rule our disorganized state with random laws he thinks of in the bath, then I will count how many apple seeds lie scattered on the marble temple floor where turtles analyze profits through loss. If blind children ride carousel of fate with sly plan to paint frescoes on church walls depicting deaths of saints in accidents, then I will travel toward the holy land through flashing portal of argentine light to find divine doctor who heals all wounds. If my grandfather flies airplane of faith low over rippling lake of secret snakes who sing psalms in heavenly choir of ghosts, then I will map every telephone pole that connects our brains as the world wide web in global marketplace of false ideas. If I keep walking in circles of truths in frantic chase for the most scathing joke that exposes weakness of tyranny, then I will carve runes on the rock of ages cleft wide by earnest zeal of loyalists so we can ride the carousel of fate.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
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Sunday, January 25, 2026
Ride Carousel Of Fate
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Orpheus and Orion arrive with box of tools to fix broken engine that operates the cosmic carousel of fate so we can restore peace on Earth.
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