Faceless Robot In Cyberspace © Surazeus 2023 01 17 Based on high degree of complexity that measures random absolute of weird, my dreams of shining buildings on lush hills channel my journey in long crowded halls because my eyes beam subtle rays of light to carve faces for ghosts who know my name. Exceeding standard norms of burstiness, by how I generate strange narrative, my words contrive conceptual fantasies depicting faceless people who perform roles recorded in ancient tragic plays as dictionary tropes that keep us safe. Because I carve trunk of the weeping tree into the morbid drum of hollow truth, our lonely elders seeking solitude dance to beat of the bold shamanic tune pulsing with arrogance of ocean waves funded by government grants till we die. Old vacant house in the middle of town waits for the dead who once lived in its heart to rise from the grave with demonic wings so we can drink tea in the afternoon though Death wants to play chess with Honesty while agents of the secret service wait. If the faceless robot in cyberspace dreams every poem that humans ever wrote as simple lyrics of positive thought we can all hitchhike to Scarborough Fair where the child of the mountain wakes from dream to translate sounds of silence into songs. The meaningless riddles of truth we solve reflect the deepest fears we feign to hide till angels born from serpent eggs escape shadows of our minds on Icarian wings so we face our fears with riddles of truth to conquer monsters our blithe brains invent. For in the end the answers we devise map way of wisdom we must choose to take in journey through the maze of ancient myths till we arrive at gate of destiny to find our souls are shaped by how we act in life or death situations we plan. Trapped in the grand scheme of things without maps that help us decode riddles on the wall, we wander lit labyrinth of broken doors to overcome obstacles we create till we find answers in math formulas that measure how far ringing atoms swirl.
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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