Dark Friday The Thirteenth © Surazeus 2023 01 13 The empty beauty of the singing sea fills my hollow heart with anguish of love as I huddle alone in starless night where only the wind knows my secret name ten thousand years beyond the end of time till I wake in bleak hunger of red dawn. Knights sent by the king attacked our enclave, arresting master and knights of our order, but I jumped from the tower to the cart, then ran down to the harbor at midnight where I sailed small boat in the swirling mist and washed up on the beach beneath white cliffs. Stealing apple pie from the windowsill of the old woman who smiles as I eat, I consume sweet fruit from the Tree of Life, then wander weeping in forest of oaks where ravens explain the meaning of life while I float dreamless in silver moonlight. Approaching locked door of the mason lodge, I glance at faceless ghosts among black trees, then knock the secret code I learned in class, so they blindfold my eyes and lead me in where I kneel before the master in the east who wields the diamond-tipped wand of Zambor. As entered apprentice, I carry stones from large wagon to square board on the rope that master masons raise to build high walls as we construct new castle on the hill for the Lion King who wears jeweled crown, then eat turnip soup in the sunset glow. As fellow craft, I carve stones into blocks by swinging hammer of Thor with hot breath to strike the sharp chisel with well-aimed blows based on careful measurement of strict form in line with ideal geometric shape that constructs sturdy wall for divine reign. As master mason, I draft castle form with square and compass to measure its shape which I employ to draw boundary lines defining castle based on Idea of Heaven that exists within bounds of time and space to moderate foundation of moral wisdom. Though my grand master and my fellow knights were slaughtered on dark Friday the Thirteenth, I sailed across wild sea to Avalon where as Free Mason of the Holy Isle I construct castle of Heaven on Earth to protect my family from tyranny.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Friday, January 13, 2023
Dark Friday The Thirteenth
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