Yellow Wood Of Hope © Surazeus 2026 04 18 The crumbling stone bridge over the brown river, on which the statue of the poet stands, waits for my ghost to cross its wildered way, humming with gusts of arbitrary wind that scatters pages of verse from frail hands so our dreams dissolve into silent song. Delicate plum stone of my rotten heart, charred by sad flame of the arrogant lamp, contains original purpose of life designed by Raven Witch of Serpent Lake who brews honey wine in Cauldron of Faith while chanting hex of wisdom from the stars. Atomic light of pure love in my cells began to gleam before our world was born from frantic swirls of penitential lust that sparkles carbon molecules to bind aggressive force of hope with grim desire which aggregates proverbs in Book of Dreams. Startled awake by the wrinkle in time, that folds every universe of my mind in vibrant matrix through radio waves, I study flashing quarks in supple words preserved as letters writhing on white page that prove ten dimensions spiral through eggs. When I come to the road less traveled by, that has never appeared on any map drawn by Lone Wolf in monastery cave, I find pregnant woman by the blind oak who seems to know the secret of my name, so we walk in the yellow wood of hope. Alert in classroom full of changeling sprites, I teach how Mercator projection map provides the best navigation device for brave explorers who sail Seven Seas across ten dimensions of time and space to colonize the world with fantasies. My sensitive spirit of eager faith writhes with rancid bitterness of gloom when I transverse the endless realm of words with yearning to retrieve Diamond of Death by crossing threshold of the Otherworld that leaves me stranded in my first hometown. I drift in dreary reverie of fear to seek asylum in your weary heart where grief corrupts sagacious honesty through quaint cathexis in your faceless soul for which I leap to cross eternity as swirling shadow of atomic words.
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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Saturday, April 18, 2026
Yellow Wood Of Hope
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Orpheus finds old gray-haired bard standing alone where two roads diverge in the yellow wood of ten dimensions, so they sit by the fire at midnight and think about why.
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