Ghost Of Every Human Being © Surazeus 2022 12 30 When I go outside in the morning light I see the ghost of every human being who ever lived in history of the Earth float around me in amaranthine beams, begging me to record their names and deeds in songs that make people weep for their souls. In nameless pre-face of the former-born I see the ghost of every human being who evolved from carbon rings, fish to lizard to mouse to cat to ape to wingless angel, begging me to reincarnate their genes in children who spring from seed of my brain. When I gaze up at the clouds at noon I see the ghost of every human being who could have been born at just the right hour from every couple who never made love, begging me to generate souls for them so they can savor pleasures of this world. In nameless un-face of the never-born I see the ghost of every human being who will never exist in dream of time from every possible synthesis of genes, begging me to make masks for them to wear as they drench my soul in rain of their tears. When I stand by the sea in evening dusk I see the ghost of every human being who will be born in the tangle of fate when lovers encounter soul they desire, begging me to design new paradigm where they can play fertile role with free will. In nameless post-face of the not-yet-born I see the ghost of every human being who wants to exist bound by time and space lure two lusty strangers to copulate, begging me to compose new epic poem where every soul can play Queen and her Hero. When I gaze up at the stars at midnight I see the ghost of every human being conceived in minds of wizards who tell stories imitate the actions of living souls, begging me to build theater of dreams so they can live in performance of actors. In nameless why-face of the ever-born I see the ghost of every human being conjured as glamorous idol of hope from words of stories I arrange in books, begging me to dream them from nothingness for they will still live long after I die.
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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