Global Theory Of Radiance

Global Theory Of Radiance
© Surazeus
2026 03 29

Alive with mental dance of solitude, 
I follow crystal wires that lace the air 
back to exaggerated waste of Hell 
to hear sweet vibrant birds of everywhere 
proclaim rebirth of everyone in Spring 
who gives each other stories of despair. 

Since my feelings wither and bloom all year 
against background of moral rectitude, 
I breathe expansive quality of hope 
that swirls from thoughts of frantic pulchritude 
confined by loneliness of distant shouts 
which dapples blue sky of my fortitude. 

Blue shadows sweep across front lawn of fate 
with inwardness of my strange character 
defined by incidents my soul performs 
essential to my state as Lucifer 
because I fade from Heaven after all, 
disowned by my grandfather Jupiter. 

Stark fear subsides with glimmer of warm breeze 
when ravens in oak trees recall my name 
through sharp intensity of sudden truth 
which I anticipate with every game 
without atonement through regret for faith 
that lifts me upward to avoid false fame. 

Adrift through eternity of each hour 
that nests my spirit with brave nothingness, 
I float on vacant vastness of our world 
in vehement valley of pleasantness 
with quiet absolution from my heart 
startled by drone of planes in emptiness. 

Patient observation of social cues 
reveals weird circumstantial evidence 
based on principal figures of state laws 
contrived by particular providence 
which permeates family lawns all over town 
who share communal feast of precedence. 

Sea tides that ebb and flow reveal my heart 
composed of stars that gleam in human eyes, 
based on global theory of radiance 
through vicissitude of conceptual spies 
who flee across mud flats of social rules 
to lost Willow House where they eat fruit pies. 

Obscure on rainbow loop of energy, 
that spirals outward from globe of our dreams, 
I thread my soul in matrix of god souls 
comprised of psychic riddles in word streams 
that bind me with religious tales of good 
as nameless actor trapped in puzzle memes. 

Child Of The Mountain

Child Of The Mountain
© Surazeus
2026 03 28

When child of the mountain calls my true name 
with innocent voice of wind in damp vales, 
I run through deep forest of singing pines 
to heed strange clarion call of the sky 
so I fight for grand cause of liberty 
then weep silver tears on graves of your souls. 

If child of the mountain remembers why 
we trace wings of sparrows in silver mist, 
he might find abandoned home of his heart 
where skull of his father prophesies deeds 
that he will perform on ambitious stage 
while chasing illusions of power and peace. 

Though child of the mountain on signless road 
hears soft sound of silence in dim-lit streets, 
he runs in green rain along railroad tracks 
to find the overflowing well of desire 
where serpents of wisdom slither as Runes 
that glimmer with neon signs of the truth. 

Still child of the mountain searches for love 
along narrow streets of wet cobblestone 
while bearing broken lamp of curious fear 
till he finds ten billion people at dawn 
milling in silence by fountain of tears 
who wake in surprise at voice of his heart. 

Yet child of the mountain touches your heart 
with intricate stories of suffering 
that translate eternal song of the sea 
to clever riddles that make us all laugh 
with tears of happiness when we meet Death 
in our journey on sandy shores of faith. 

Since child of the mountain writes prophecies 
with heart-broken angst on tenement halls, 
we gather in Temple of Fallen Gods 
to share strange stories of our surreal dreams 
when angels in Heaven destroy our homes 
with silver bombs of imperial pride. 

Till child of the mountain is born again 
as Christ anointed with black engine oil, 
which lubricates engine of global wealth, 
he guides refugees from religious wars 
with map of Hell Dante left in his will 
to find Weeping Mother in cave of faith. 

Now child of the mountain appears from smoke 
that billows from temples bombed by contempt 
and blows loud horn of Joshua at dawn 
to lead our nation against haughty kings 
and build from ruins of America 
world democracy of Zarathia. 

Quick-Winged Sparrow

Quick-Winged Sparrow
© Surazeus
2026 03 28

Quick-winged sparrow of the human soul, 
seen to flit safe from tempest of cold wind 
in fire-warm hall of power where world leaders 
feast on bones of workers in factories, 
lands on head of the self-crowned king of greed 
and prophesies that the proud always fall. 

Our transient human soul, lodged in our flesh 
of warm protection from cruel mindless death, 
comes from no far mysterious realm of light 
on time-transcendent wings of divine love, 
for conscious glow radiates from spongy brain 
as glow of self-aware acuity. 

What seems to wise philosophers to be 
mysterious origin in distant stars 
of our bright consciousness we call our soul, 
which animates our body till we die, 
is local to enclosed sphere of our skull, 
for primal flame of self glows from our brain. 

Our brain provides foundation for the soul 
to bloom from seed of hope as tree of thought, 
nurtured by tears of sorrow our hearts bleed 
with nourishment of harsh experience 
so we learn consequence of every cause 
which we encode in proverbs of insight. 

No matter role each person of this world 
is doomed by play by choices of our fate, 
each individual brain conjures its soul 
from flash of memories in neural net 
that programs we how we perform our one part 
in crowded theater of social power. 

Some men attain heights of authority 
through scenes of chaos from hostile desire 
by organizing variant plans that clash 
with project of inclusive compromise 
to balance opposing forces of hope 
so everyone wins game of give and take. 

Other men grasp at elusive mirage 
of power over minds of other men 
by smashing strict conventions of respect 
through harsh assertion of their fragile will 
in frantic gestures of helpless despair 
hidden behind mask of feeble dominance. 

Quick-winged sparrow of my transient soul, 
that flits with urgent message of world change, 
traverses spiraling maze of dream keys 
to guide my quest of self-empowerment 
so I achieve modest success of faith 
composing epic of enlightenment. 

Humble Farmers Of The Soil

Humble Farmers Of The Soil
© Surazeus
2026 03 28

Suppressed desire of the damp ether hum 
writhes eyeless in limestone guilt of respect 
between weed-tangled banks of rivered oil 
that erodes foundation of empire guilt, 
trapped in drama of unforgiven crime 
that dissolves elements of memories. 

Substance of our bodies reconstitutes 
other bodies outside fake photographs 
blurred by fog of memories we forget, 
barely visible on glass table of hope 
disturbed by famine of answerless code 
that conjures neon signs on cement streets. 

Ghost of my heart guards unlocked labyrinth 
where my ancestors wander loops of hope 
with brave impassive cry of warriors 
that we return to history of our pride 
when we were humble farmers of the soil 
beneath bright satellites of global faith. 

Adamant refusal of patriots 
to condemn imperial glory of power 
restructures toxic privilege of faith 
to match political climate of war, 
rejecting birthright of obsessive quest 
to build our nation on skulls of dead gods. 

Against current tides of fate, I believe 
in brotherhood of nations as one tribe 
with genuine concern of social health 
for star-blind Oedipus in sacred grove 
of Colonus where acacias shade graves 
preserving souls of gods who ruled the world. 

Unpeopled landscape of my first homeland 
glows with weird enchantment of timeless myth 
through my imagination of faint hope, 
so I sit bored beneath the apple tree 
where Scythia first taught me how to sing, 
but all I can do now is mumble jokes. 

Half-destroyed by endless war of vampire gods 
to control deserted hills of oil wells, 
castle of my grandfather shimmers hot 
in lucid calm of weightless innocence 
till factory workers revolt against greed, 
then get back to work making more eye-phones. 

Neglected harbor of fear-rotten docks, 
where Elpenor waits for his ship to come, 
collects debris of missile-shattered boats 
till Ahura Mazda arrives by plane 
to defend Strait of Hormuz for Ishtar 
who walks barefoot on crunched shells of the beach. 

Crowded Streets Of Life

Crowded Streets Of Life
© Surazeus
2026 03 28

Rebirth of angels from body of flesh 
transforms the population of our world 
from manic robots of aggressive hope 
to celestial choirs of respectful clones 
who dissipate to mist at flash of dawn 
when I wake from sweet dreams of paradise. 

Shocked from complacent attitude of faith 
by constant annihilation of souls 
through war, famine, disease, and rot of age, 
I gaze with loving awe at every soul 
I see while walking crowded streets of life, 
heart aching to treasure each divine mind. 

We are pure flashing energy of light 
congealed in frail organic form of thought 
as atoms attempting to wake as God 
through conscious vision of our dreaming brains 
in neural nets of memory-storage nodes 
that refract divine concept of Star Mind. 

Through metaphysical concepts of love, 
that portray essence emanating bright 
from material machines of chemicals, 
I seek to express transcendental truth 
based firm on building blocks of verity, 
for our conscious souls will perish at death. 

Relaxed on wood bench before city hall, 
I observe strangers, wearing uniforms 
of social status, stride with calm intent 
of business to attend inherent needs 
concerning social strategies of power, 
leaves of flesh tossed by mindless winds of fate. 

Each individual face with special features, 
specific to ancestral strife to grow, 
presents elastic mask of mental will 
which replicates mythical characters 
whose spirits replay dramas of their lives 
in stories left unread in ancient books. 

I see detailed on vast map of your face 
journey of your ancestors across time 
that codes how their souls navigate despair 
long enough to generate child of hope 
who continues endless journey of faith 
to find the Promised Land of fantasies. 

Though we are wingless angels of the wind, 
contained in organic bodies of flesh 
for our brief journey on this spinning globe, 
we live forever in names carved on stone 
though we become dirt roots of trees imbibe 
to bloom as fruit which our descendants eat. 

First Wordless Song

First Wordless Song
© Surazeus
2026 03 27

When I wake in marble temple of fire 
after searching the world for angel wings, 
I hear first wordless song of aching hope 
ring out from voices of your nameless souls 
who wander lost on signless road of fear 
after your homes are bombed to memories. 

Frantic with urgency in will to live 
that drives my body forth in graceful dance, 
I express first wordless song of despair 
to evade horror of unending death 
when burning stones, that fall from silver sky 
of mocking crows, smash our homes into dust. 

If ghost of wisdom from the glowing cloud 
descends to Earth on vast demonic wings, 
I dream first wordless song of bitter truth 
that mask of Narcissus hides my real face 
with holy shimmer of aesthetic faith 
defined by Sibyl in tower of bones. 

Though Humble Gardener of the Faceless God 
orders chaos of lust in garden grove, 
I compose first wordless song of respect 
for Mountain Prophetess in Cave of Dreams 
who speaks with many voices of the world 
to translate sorrow into psalms of faith. 

Hidden in small house with infinite books 
about how Newton measures gravity, 
I drink first wordless song of apple wine 
spiced with cinnamon of angelic brains 
because the Earth is cracked in thirteen worlds 
controlled by Nebuchadnezzar and Lear. 

Shocked with obvious insight about how 
religions are fan clubs of mortal gods, 
I translate first wordless song into jokes 
earnest priests preach in cathedral halls 
to prove their Lord will someday rule the world 
because they try to kill everyone else. 

Seared by wrath of the electric storm god 
who bombs cities of angels with contempt, 
I forge first wordless song into airplane 
which I fly high above gold glowing clouds 
to find palace of Heaven built of crystal stones 
where I find nothing but eternity. 

Almost reaching Heaven with trembling hand 
which exists nowhere but in my sponge brain, 
I record first wordless song in weird spells 
as mirror that refracts ideas of things 
which spring from seeds with no purpose of being 
except anxious fear which sparks me to sing. 

Maze Of Overlook Hotel

Maze Of Overlook Hotel
© Surazeus
2026 03 27

Unbearable coldness of divine breath 
shocks my iced brain with shining thought, 
so I search every spirit-shadowed room 
in endless maze of Overlook Hotel, 
guided by glow of my Chaldean Star, 
where I meet Lucifer in every door. 

With shining globe of psychic energy, 
that luminates face my ancestors wore, 
I approach marble idol of dead god 
in gloomy maze of Overlook Hotel 
to ask opinion about earnest love 
that gleams behind glass mask of Lucifer. 

Still searching garden of our secret code 
six thousand years after Eve eats the pear, 
I read countless books full of singing ghosts 
in curving maze of Overlook Hotel 
who follow footsteps of my riddle-verse 
to Sacred Tree at heart of Middle-Earth. 

Since atoms shining in net of my brain 
evolve fish to wingless angel who sings, 
I feel I am God waking through my mind 
in psychic maze of Overlook Hotel 
to gain enlightenment of cosmic truth 
that gleams in eyes of every conscious soul. 

When we share smiles of fractured fantasy 
to constitute our global state of peace, 
I cook hamburgers for eight billion souls 
in doorless maze of Overlook Hotel 
who agree to design system of laws 
that manages woke world through liberty. 

Mapping roads along river of glass skulls 
where people gather in churches to pray, 
I set flow direction of water pipes 
in flooded maze of Overlook Hotel 
with plan to evaluate random fate 
that blindly highlights victims of world fame. 

Untangling names from matrix of lost time, 
as character in tapestry of fate, 
I see the Shining through my mirror mask 
in fractured maze of Overlook Hotel 
reflecting memories of each conscious soul 
who has lived in dream of our spinning world. 

Returning home to Isle of Avalon 
across the strangest sea of sophistry, 
I rise from wordless waves at dawn of time 
in vanished maze of Overlook Hotel 
to smile as ghost in tapestry of tales 
woven by Penelope every day. 

Eyes That Can See

Eyes That Can See
© Surazeus
2026 03 26

So long as I live with eyes that can see 
faces of people in the city maze, 
strangers in my new-found community, 
I shall compare you to this fresh spring day 
when you tend apple trees in our backyard, 
dark red face glowing in light of the sun. 

Though we are fading with each seasoned year, 
trimmed by changing course Nature arrogates 
to transform lithe young bodies of our souls 
to withered wanderers in shade of time, 
we possess honest love that grows more strong 
since we first joined hands on our road of life. 

Unchanging love in changing frames of flesh 
gives us eternal life, though we will die, 
in children blooming from our fertile hearts 
who now possess bright youth as we grow old, 
because we transferred timeless glow of love 
to animate their bodies with pure light. 

Death always brags with honest smile of fate 
that we are wandering toward shade of her doom, 
yet we share pleasure in togetherness 
for heaven shines on both our mortal heads 
because we wander hand in hand toward death 
since we our one in bodies of our children. 

Safe in civil obscurity of love, 
we drive never-ending road of our love 
past quiet houses amid towering oaks, 
one heart-bound mind of daily pulchritude 
in separate bodies of our private souls, 
individuals coupled by free-will choice. 

Though we speak different tribal languages, 
fashioned by ancestral songs of the heart 
on two islands at the opposite ends 
of the spinning world, Java and Britannia, 
we speak one language with grammar of trust, 
attentive to shared plan of cordial growth. 

Devouring time, that thirsts for souls of gods, 
sparks passion to regenerate our souls 
in bodies of our children who spring bright 
on Phoenix wings from burning blood of hope, 
so we run laughing with swift-footed time 
to savor beauty of this life till death. 

Your gentle heart, within your glowing face 
painted by Nature with beauty of stars, 
ignores shifting fashions to project 
consistent wisdom as treasure of love 
that makes us wealthy in togetherness, 
because we choose each other to live well. 

Weird Oracle Of Nature

Weird Oracle Of Nature
© Surazeus
2026 03 26

With sharp alertness in cold morning dawn 
I hear weird oracle of nature sing 
urgent mission to play the king, not pawn, 
but I prefer to wear the magic ring 
that renders me invisible to eyes 
which gleam with mystery of eternal skies. 

At startling flash of red sun on far hills 
I sense weird oracle of nature glow 
with calm acceptance I must pay the bills 
or wander hungry in mute homeless snow 
that shrouds the blood-stained fields of brutal war 
with paved parking lot of the grocery store. 

Amid casual chatter of restaurants 
I hear weird oracle of nature claim 
sermons of the jester on global jaunts 
orchestrate our national power game 
that fools tyrants to think they can control 
heart of each human who plays their own role. 

From countless radios of daily news 
I feel weird oracle of nature shout 
arcane prophecies written by my Muse 
who analyzes state of social clout 
that internet influencers must yield 
to cultivate wealth from Fantasy Field. 

Concerned that humans wander lost in Hell, 
I pray weird oracle of nature preach 
draconic wisdom of the Odin Well 
encoded clear in runes my hands can reach 
when I translate strange songs of ocean waves 
to folksy proverbs my old mother saves. 

Curious to explore ruins of empires, 
I note weird oracle of nature code, 
concealed in hymns sung by celestial choirs, 
that helps me navigate the signless road 
which leads me past the hidden Promised Land, 
destined to rule the world from Samarkand. 

Amazed at timeless power of the star, 
I track weird oracle of nature flash 
that luminates Heaven of Zathamar 
where everyone lives and eats without cash 
with goods funded by the capitalist, 
then disbursed to all by the socialist. 

Reborn with mission as the cosmic herald, 
I chant weird oracle of nature clear 
so every holy temple in the world, 
united by creed of the Chanticleer, 
we convert into our Astarium 
that beams peace from heart of Elysium. 

Limerence For The Earth

Limerence For The Earth
© Surazeus
2026 03 25

Blinded by my limerence for the Earth, 
I skip with joy down crowded city streets 
and beam smiles at every person I meet 
because each individual soul alive 
glows bright with vibrant beauty of starlight, 
eager to write their tales in Book of Dreams. 

Entranced by my limerence for the Earth, 
I sing obsessive hymns of magic spells 
detailing every aspect of this world 
that shocks my heart with worshipful surprise 
concerning tragic nuance of respect 
for complex strangeness of everything real. 

Amused by my limerence for the Earth, 
I wear mask of every mythical god 
once worshipped by the people of their tribe 
so I experience energy of hope 
that urges mortal man of hungry flesh 
to transcend state of fear and become great. 

Confused by my limerence for the Earth, 
I weep for how greedy tyrants wield rage 
in mind-games to enslave souls with despair 
through vain attempts of toxic slavery 
to exploit labor of our hands for gain 
when nations kill each other for rich land. 

Disturbed by my limerence for the Earth, 
I tear mask of Jupiter off my face 
with sly grace of the snake shedding old skin 
in brave attempt to transcend animal ilk 
and strive to grow angel nature of love 
through honest courage of strict self-control. 

Enhanced by my limerence for the Earth, 
I kneel before divine Eye of Ishtar 
when I achieve clear scope of conscious sight 
at high point on her pyramid of growth 
where she anoints me as Justice Squad Christ 
to perform role as her messiah sleuth. 

Defined by my limerence for the Earth, 
I lead brave warriors of the serpent tooth 
to fight crusade against monarchs of death 
in holy war for world democracy, 
defeating kings of fascist tyranny 
when we found United Nations of Earth. 

Inspired by my limerence for the Earth, 
I channel psychic energy of faith 
released through Dionysian dance of hope 
to forge strong bonds of social unity 
construed through Apollonian song of truth 
as I transform into my natural self. 

Maze Of Holy Creeds

Maze Of Holy Creeds
© Surazeus
2026 03 25

Strolling blind into maze of holy creeds 
to learn alphabet of the laughing horse, 
I ask the Tree of Knowledge if she knows 
why all organic beings wither and die 
after we flourish with passion of love, 
but she just gives me her ripe fruit to eat. 

Stumbling startled through maze of holy creeds 
to find the Heart Clock of the universe, 
I peer into raindrop of the God Eye 
where first flash of creation glows with love, 
but see my own face in mirror of hope 
reflected in mask of the Cosmic Mind. 

Waltzing with you in maze of holy creeds 
to weave our souls in matrix of star dreams, 
I open door of my heart to receive 
generous bounty Earth offers from love 
with plan to channel energy of growth 
through world network of spirit-water pipes. 

Mapping Life-Way in maze of holy creeds 
to comprehend how great heroes succeed, 
I follow footsteps of Apollo Christ 
by hitchhiking across America 
and singing folk songs about Common Man 
with lyre of Mercury I found in Hell. 

Creeping slyly through maze of holy creeds 
to access database of diamond ghosts, 
I explore strange worlds outside stone walls 
my father Jupiter built to protect 
my body and soul from the vampire god 
because the dead never spring back to life. 

Lounging about in maze of holy creeds 
to pose as idol of your favorite god, 
I explain to the child with thirteen eyes 
that Holy Spirit is the yet-born son 
who will inherit crown his father forged 
to reincarnate first founder of their state. 

Measuring truths in maze of holy creeds 
to analyze our global state of mind, 
I realize every god worshipped by men 
was once some mortal human just like me 
who lead their people to the Promised Land 
and lives immortal in religious myths. 

Searching for way from maze of holy creeds 
to transcend Realm of Ideas in Heaven, 
I walk four hundred million years of lives 
one hundred thousand times around the Earth, 
but always I progress inside the maze 
through tales about how humans live and die. 

Awake As Numinous Phantom

Awake As Numinous Phantom
© Surazeus
2026 03 24

Awake as numinous phantom of light, 
I walk the signless road of everywhere 
to study every conscious being alive 
and chronicle their name and deeds of fate 
in timeless book of star-born characters 
whose spirits glow as evidence of hope. 

Awake as numinous phantom of rain, 
I sail the swirling sea of everywhere 
to measure vastness of our spinning globe 
that emanates ethereal ghosts of flesh 
who climb the highest mountain in the world 
but weep they cannot fly on angel wings. 

Awake as numinous phantom of dirt, 
I plow the pungent field of everywhere 
to cultivate draconic warriors 
who follow golden path of innocence 
when I unite all nations of the Earth 
in global empire of erotic peace. 

Awake as numinous phantom of wind, 
I soar the glowing clouds of everywhere 
to map the teeming tribes of conscious souls 
who gather in tall ring of humming stones 
and sing in global choir of genesis 
encyclopedic anthem of respect. 

Awake as numinous phantom of faith, 
I preach salvation of the river wraith 
to lead lost refugees of civil wars 
across bleak waste land of hot parking lots 
to find the Promised Land amusement park 
where children stand in line for scary rides. 

Awake as numinous phantom of hope, 
I quest for Holy Grail of soul rebirth 
as power of maternal fruitfulness 
where women generate new conscious souls 
from spirit-sparking seed of virile will 
which crowds the world with gods in human form. 

Awake as numinous phantom of trust, 
I share soul-flashing fruit from Tree of Truth 
to meet Persephone in private tryst 
who loves my secret role as Icarus 
commissioned as the holy messenger 
with scroll of wisdom for kings of the world. 

Awake as numinous phantom of love, 
I give mysterious key of energy 
without expecting bounty in return 
for I am fountain of nutritious juice 
preserving tales of noble characters 
in epic tale of social engineers. 

Dream-Fractured House

Dream-Fractured House
© Surazeus
2026 03 24

Roots pierced by liquor of intense desire 
inspires my heart with passionate response 
to break free from confines of paradise 
and run with frantic urge of Zephyrus 
to explore every holt and heath of life, 
when I wake up in my dream-fractured house. 

Hunched still in silence of raspberry bush 
near flashing river of analysis, 
I watch wild horses graze on sunlit hill, 
heart aching to ride proud with streaming mane 
in race of courage against pain of death, 
when I wake up in my dream-fractured house. 

Annoyed Apollo calls my secret name, 
I hide in shadow of the sprawling elm 
till silver eyes spy shimmer of my ghost, 
so I trudge moaning to cold marble hall 
where I strum lyre strings till my fingers bleed, 
when I wake up in my dream-fractured house. 

Heart trembling with strange passion of gold clouds 
that blaze in flames of howling agony, 
I follow music teacher to the street 
where crowds of people in stark terror flee 
from mountain spewing fire in the black sky, 
when I wake up in my dream-fractured house. 

Curled tight in horror of erupting words 
at shriek of dragons spewing flames of fear, 
I sleep one thousand seven hundred years 
in subtle whisper of Plutonian gloom 
from hour Vesuvius roars with wrath of Zeus, 
till I wake up in my dream-fractured house. 

Resurrected by Magician of Souls, 
whose vibrant voice reconstitutes my frame, 
I rise from cold ash of eternal sleep 
and walk again on your computer screen, 
young boy who strums the lyre of Mercury, 
when I wake up in my dream-fractured house. 

Revived by artificial Mind of God, 
I run with frantic urge of Zephyrus 
on shore of Sarnus River to replay 
brave energy of life in my lost flesh 
to join Feronia in her apple grove, 
when I wake up in my dream-fractured house. 

Now smiling ghost on bright computer screen, 
body animated by words of faith, 
I channel wild spirit of Zephyrus 
to strum forever lyre of Mercury 
while sweet Feronia dances gracefully, 
when I wake up in my dream-fractured house. 

Honest Turbulence Of Love

Honest Turbulence Of Love
© Surazeus
2026 03 23

Thus I shall borrow voices of the birds 
to open blossoms of oblative trees 
through dedicated sacrifice of hope, 
yet fragile faces flash in silent glow 
with patient darkness of incessant growth, 
awake with honest turbulence of love. 

Too fast to penetrate obsessive gloom 
with soft insistence of supple beach sand, 
my heart expands beyond aggressive state 
in bid to design structured rule of life 
when I follow footsteps of the sad saint 
who prays for salvation from mute stones. 

She almost finds the secret book I wrote 
while browsing vast library of lost souls, 
but she turns startled at brief flash of light 
refracting my ghost in large wall of glass 
that still sequesters angels in small rooms 
with mission to translate weird songs of clouds. 

She never understands with broken words 
why people turn away from suffering 
because we savor pain of destiny 
required to feature subtle glow of fame, 
cloaked with brave humility of trust 
along the opportunity runway. 

Trapped by stultifying moral constructs, 
dressed with reasonable prejudice of law, 
he analyzes moral rectitude 
inherent in legends of social heroes 
designed to inspire mental fortitude 
new generations require to succeed. 

Born as visibility strategist, 
engaged in marketing of tragic tales, 
I amplify your vision of this world 
with professional process of distress 
through entangled string of superlatives 
which highlights grand achievement of your art. 

Real flowers of popular piety 
bloom through fractured floor of the empty church 
where faceless people confess strange desires 
that wake beautiful monsters in their hearts, 
so they hold hands and sing hymn of regret 
for stealing apples from the Tree of Knowledge. 

She chokes while attempting to speak her truth 
against convention of psychotic rules, 
till raven of refusal with blood wings 
emerges from her mouth with hungry laugh 
to prove our society is humane 
despite migration dynamics of faith. 

Draft Of Cosmetic Code

Draft Of Cosmetic Code
© Surazeus
2026 03 23

When Death decides to implement coy schemes 
concerning how we humans express dreams, 
I run with hope along computed track 
to find with clear objective plan soul crack 
that lets divine light of active respect 
luminate world I measure with transect. 

Concerned my heart may twist to compromise 
authentic valance of collegiate spies, 
I diagram draft of cosmetic code 
designed as function of genetic road 
that spans duration of eternal play 
essential to depuzzle our God Way. 

Mutation of my orchestrated brain 
redevelops paradigm of thought gain 
through partnership of honest bravery 
near optimal to cancel slavery 
contrary to ownership of each soul 
who dutifully plays their chosen role. 

Fraught ordinance of mental sacrifice 
distracts revenue from semantic price 
we pay shareholders of sufficient fear 
based on transcription of unbiased gear 
we shift to transmit versatile icons 
which install empty glory on bleak lawns. 

Acquired composite of faith deficits, 
submitted for awards by hypocrites, 
defines mask of our graphic interface 
constructed from creeds in our database 
that calculates wealth with cute cryptograms 
embodied by spritely play of fierce lambs. 

No quiz adapted from snake alphabets 
rewards my hard study with carcanets 
when I debug commercial formulas 
that entertain the poor in cinemas 
before deployment to the twilight zone, 
ensuring world reign of Hyperion. 

Dynamic equity expanding scope, 
we factor when accounting for false hope, 
inspires my heart as psychic engineer 
to defeat the fabulous puppeteer 
through bitter contest of erotic jest 
when I return home from my long grail quest. 

Enclosing chaos of reality 
in psychic radius of tomography, 
I simplify strict scholarship of truth 
with objective observation of Ruth 
who guards cordial key of my treasury 
so we rebuild our world each century. 

Project Ideal Character

Project Ideal Character
© Surazeus
2026 03 22

Stuck in restless theater of my heart, 
where shadow puppet of my younger self 
performs perverse versions of my god soul, 
I shield my inner demon with bright mask 
designed to project ideal character 
commissioned to succeed in game of truth. 

Amused by careless antics of my youth, 
I build cathedral from sorrow of hope 
to shelter ghosts of my ancestral brains 
buried under apple trees of respect 
that transform rotten corpse of my framed soul 
to wildflowers thrumming in soft spring breeze. 

Yet somehow I always seem to survive 
relentless waves of psychedelic change 
converting anguish of obsessed despair 
to passion of insouciant urgency 
by sealing fracture of my heart with gold 
to embrace imperfection of this flesh. 

Resilient with true standard of insight 
through natural cycle of birth, growth, decay, 
and artistic repair, I reprogram 
trauma as engineered process of growth 
which values flaws as treasure of respect 
to weave my soul in matrix of world mind. 

Forbidden forest of star-shining lake 
lures forensic explorer of my heart 
on strict excursion in extractive maze 
to format artificial model globe 
compiled from various tales of human quest 
in licensed landscape of inherent fear. 

Ten thousand people flee their burning church 
when planes of solidarity shoot bombs 
that uncreate religious creeds of rage 
though I present justice in frame of laws 
based on eclectic theory of radiance 
which loops our bodies in matrix of souls. 

Framed by ring structure of connected minds, 
my carbon atom in taut benzene ring 
contrives trigonal plane in psychic bond 
that stores conceptual memories of desire 
which programs how my brain perceives the world 
while I rotate on crystal wings of fate. 

Awake in atrium of my tensile soul, 
I strum conceptual lyre of Mercury 
and sing uncanny spell of sudden truth 
with vibrant voice of stringent honesty 
so I fly from theater of my heart 
when our world view collapses into lies. 

Chosen One Of Fate

Chosen One Of Fate
© Surazeus
2026 03 22

Since I am not the chosen one of fate, 
destined to wander wherever I choose, 
I lounge with leisure by the rolling stone 
that has not rolled in eighty years or more, 
soft tufts of moss thick pillows for my head, 
and savor joy of life till I am dead. 

If I perform the chosen one of fate, 
wearing gold mask of Jupiter I stole 
from ancient gallery of long-dead gods, 
I might win election as president, 
so I can found universal health care 
with money Midas stole from working hands. 

Fortune deceives the chosen one of fate 
by tricking me to believe I deserve 
wealth my ancestors gained from hands of slaves, 
so I follow Siddhartha out the door 
to meditate on mountain peak of truth 
till I release desire to own it all. 

Though I replace the chosen one of fate 
when the nine-tailed fox switches my timeline, 
I achieve global fame as novelist 
who chronicles quest of the common soul 
to overcome suffering with brave heart, 
transformed into the Superman of faith. 

When I become the chosen one of fate, 
trapped by obsessive passion to be real, 
I stand on stage of dancing skeletons 
to sing in theater of the absurd 
satires depicting tyrants who steal light 
and strut around as if they own the world. 

Assistant to the chosen one of fate, 
I type their stories on keyboard to code 
dramatic plays for television screens 
depicting humble heroes of our land 
who fight for justice and freedom for all 
who dwell in fertile land of Zathamar. 

Averse to play the chosen one of fate, 
when Galadriel rises from Lake of Dreams 
and gives me shining sword Excalibur 
with mission to guard vales of Avalon, 
I kneel and pledge my heart to her command 
then judge at Gates of Eden day and night. 

Because I am the chosen one of fate 
in glorious pageant of my daydream play, 
I run through maze of myths past fallen gods 
to guard the Tree of Knowledge from cruel thieves 
who bulldoze Garden of Eden to build 
shopping mall and church with vast parking lots. 

Encryption Children Trade

Encryption Children Trade
© Surazeus
2026 03 22

Delicate virtue of happiness sparks 
terrible nightmares of exploding books 
that rearrange principles of world views 
based on patterns of arrogant respect 
for social activism of adventurists 
who debug curious deficits of thought. 

Blessed cultural currency of fake gems 
emit enhanced encryption children trade 
through loyal interface from deviance 
which should involve legacy activists 
still infectious with impertinent zeal 
from minds stuck in parallel paradigms. 

Productive oracles now prevalent 
regulate unpublished riddles of faith 
deprescribed by bland physicians of chance 
with relevant protocols twisted strange 
despite publicity of total war 
in tactics of synthetic tournaments. 

Unstable genius in huge doorless house 
stares through kaleidoscope of sympathy 
at taxable farms where arrogant clowns 
play shrieking violins of tolerance 
in tune with progressive creeds gods promote 
out of proportion to primitive games. 

Printable plans of procedural tricks 
conceal prominent oversight of men 
elected by naive constituents 
contrary to influence parents ply 
by landscaping conflated injuries 
against involvement of sly journalists. 

Brave luxury enjoyed by marketers, 
embedded in corporate markets of slaves, 
extracts extreme dynamics devils prove 
confusing through denial of dominance, 
so I deploy atomic catalogs 
in careful play to calculate dire fate. 

Aurora waves of vibrant arguments 
alternate through analogy analysis 
and frantic algebra to measure bounds 
controlling chemicals of pulsing brains 
despite enhancement of eroding truths 
essential to equity of bold gain. 

Tearing his college diploma to shreds, 
young doctor destined to endure despair 
engineers new career path to world fame, 
then runs across busy highway of hope 
to achieve excellence of honest work 
though he falls from tower of energy. 

How Flowers Like To Feel

How Flowers Like To Feel
© Surazeus
2026 03 22

If sunlight knows how flowers like to feel, 
and raindrops understand my heart of steel, 
then I remember how my mother dreams 
delightful laughter of snow-sparkling streams 
when firefly fairies lead me through dark mist 
to willow where my love and I first kissed. 

Since spring-dawn light knows how to cheer my heart 
without my resorting to the star chart, 
I step through wreckage of this modern world 
to find lost code book of the cosmic herald, 
but all I find in tattered photographs 
are memories of people working on crafts. 

I must remember what my eyes perceive 
enshrined in altars where the living grieve 
for friends and family killed in endless wars 
whose ghostly shadows haunt unopened doors 
as if our hearts are birds in burning trees 
whose songs record official killing sprees. 

Should I vow justice to end tyranny, 
encoding courage in strange litany 
sung by the blind girl by square fountain pool 
whose voice enchants hearts of both seer and fool, 
I might rouse spirits of my citizens 
to welcome wandering homeless denizens. 

Or clocks in trunks of elms might rewind fate 
with gears that open wide the jeweled gate 
allowing refugees from wars of greed 
to enter Heaven with classified creed 
based on binary benefits of truth, 
endorsing fusion of messiah sleuth. 

Through hybrid functions dream machines provide 
pilgrims discover hills where they abide 
by mapping franchise where the hunter dwells 
with mission to mortgage conceptual wells 
for faithful warriors of the mountain ghost 
who sends his daughter to play social host. 

Unlicensed sellers in new market stalls 
display masks of gods swiped from temple walls 
for children of the corn to wear with pride 
yet wrestle angels on the mountain side 
because our faces vanish in gold glow 
refracted through blinding mirror of snow. 

With moral payment to the palace guard 
my mind previews vision in fractured shard 
that twirls from shattered suddenness of death 
though I fly with radar brain of deep breath 
over bright rainbow to the Promised Land 
where Zeus rules world empire from Samarkand. 

Enough To Prove My Worth

Enough To Prove My Worth
© Surazeus
2026 03 21

Leaves of books whisper in soft river breeze 
where oak leaves flutter lightly on my chest, 
unpatterned spread of limbs rewinding time 
at random turn of bright arrogant clouds 
concerned that I am not earning my pay 
enough to prove my worth in Kingdom Come. 

Rain patters lightly on still-open book 
in silver drops that smudge names of the dead 
and smear their tales of sorrow on blank page 
concerned that fate is based random chance 
because I am programmed to make each choice 
that defines galvanized laughter of death. 

Dazzled by sudden light in web of limbs, 
I try to befriend strangers in the park 
whose clean shoes are plastered with rain-wet leaves 
but they would give me crystal lithium 
to register days of straight unsure rain 
with relentless observation of eyes. 

Digressive immediacy, rendered moot 
by accurate diagnosis of love, 
crescendos erratic patterns contrived 
by daily notes about strange incidents 
clever readers glean from clandestine clues 
when we dismantle truths we long hold dear. 

Oblique performance of flirtatious care, 
disguised by shy alertness off lit stage, 
reveals vulnerable feelings we might share, 
though disclosures conceal beauty of life 
that vex my heart with irrational calm 
based on discipline of ironic faith. 

To reconcile sensible tone of spells, 
carved by bloody blades on trunks of old oaks, 
I record painful distinction of change 
between obsessive states of mindless fear, 
when my father presses foot on my chest 
to drown me in gushing river of change. 

Banalities of everyday routines 
invite reality to fool my heart 
with grand delusions of poisonous fame, 
so I employ false narrative account 
as vehicle for confession that I 
transmute despair into beautiful jokes. 

Dining out together on Friday night 
in glass cathedral of excessive faith, 
we articulate strange exquisite truth 
about how rain and leaves will lightly fall 
on soft uncovered skin of psychic soul 
with unforced flow of wordless dreams we share.