Restore Process Of Democracy © Surazeus 2019 03 07 Soft flowing curves of the porcelain lamp, painted sunset brown as frail autumn leaves, reminds me of her considerate smile when she looks up from her chair by the window while reading yet another romance novel, and looks at me with eyes green as pine trees in high mountains before winter snow falls, then reminds me of what we need to do. I rise from my chair in half-shadowed room and move from sharp gold glow of the desk lamp, which illuminates the bones of her face, becoming the mystery of silent gloom, and plot new revolution for our camp when we expand knowledge of arcane space, to call about the thing we need to do, while I shine in radiant concept of blue. We walk together on long signless road to navigate strange unspoken desires beyond ruined walls of paradise lost, so by the river I set down my load to erase past mistakes in wordless fires since we calculate what it all must cost, although we kiss in mist of waterfalls and leave unanswered new telephone calls. Relaxing in the downtown cafe, mute as purring kittens in sun on the floor, we drink coffee and talk about the truth that no one can see, while the silver flute explains concept of invisible door which hides the trail followed by the blind sleuth who investigates the thing we have done that cannot be solved by the laughing gun. Still holding hands after contentious fight, we run through alley of the singing skulls with bags full of star-lit diamonds we stole from their elegant angel of far-sight whose prophecy was ignored by cruel fools who cannot understand our ancient goal to restore process of democracy that defends true justice of liberty. Now that we trash class inequality to ensure each person has basic rights to life, liberty, and wild happiness, we analyze flash of causality to perceive nature of atomic lights that nurture expression of craftiness where every person does their private thing under protection of the divine wing. We construct from cracked bones of dinosaurs new empire of equal rights for all souls who work together in bright factory maze to make products for sale in shiny stores while wise people design new social roles as we transcend each revolution phase to create United Nations of Earth where every conscious soul enjoys rebirth. At the end of the day we all return home to the lamp-illuminated stage where we express weird drama of our hearts to celebrate our victory against death by constraining chaos into strict order which generates health of our dreaming minds as we feel Earth spinning into the void where we are one with the cosmic White Whole.
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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