Death Repuzzles Atoms © Surazeus 2023 01 15 With all the arguments of low or high beyond near-death dance of the afterlife I stop by olive tree to question why the earthquake wakes shades of husband and wife while cracking world view of the stubborn fool who collides with material truth of school. With fairy-tale logic of nursery rhymes I measure parallel through tedium of reproductive labor with dream chimes based on strange concept of Elysium seen by old woman in mirror of fate who studies color of fruit on the plate. Something that comes between us never shows horror of night rising from sunless deep though we discover power of brain crows when we huddle in the sea cave and weep for lonely passion of the water face reflecting bitter truth of the weird place. Through shocking wisdom of the evil eye the tongueless Muse staring at the red cloud decides that superstition of the sky considers shadow of our wordless doubt honest enough to destroy the unreal long grateful for spinning of the cracked wheel. Because old furniture is draped in white the shadow of my soul looks through the door to play piano stretched from nuclear light on your imagined stage of the mind core not quite as terrified as the grim ghost who wonders if it is better to boast. The wingless angel chooses to believe death repuzzles atoms our bodies lose in new compositions our minds conceive when death trumpets consequence of the ruse designed by the maker of clever rules because she wants to see true dreams in jewels. More people than ever are born from desire even as millions die from pestilence yet no one wants to join satanic choir gathered in cathedral of arrogance to sing about the shadow in the room though she refuses to predict our doom. We have no choice but to cherish our griefs while rain of sorrow floods the world with lies that blossom into strange complex beliefs composed into sacred hymns by sad spies who walk alone on signless road to find paradise the cosmic herald designed.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Sunday, January 15, 2023
Death Repuzzles Atoms
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