Embrace Theology Of Love © Surazeus 2023 02 03 When I feel ache in the dying of things that combusts through my mind with ecstasy, I savor the strange loveliness of things that hypnotize my heart with fantasy so on the shore of Mar-nan-otha Pool I search for Tree Muse who enchants my soul. Though I am mad with bitterness of hope in walking slow circles around the oak, I shout to the Glow Cloud that I will cope when I break free from the sorrowful yoke, but I stare at leaves fluttering in the breeze while I fumble confused with rusty keys. Yet still I tumble in dream of the leaf on wingless sorrow of the eglantine, half-mad with honest pain of wordless grief in weeping for sad death of Melusine who taught me how to read Runes in the well that mirror anguish of the tolling bell. Encumbered with ruins of ancient faith, when I fall into chaos of the sea, I struggle gasping against the star wraith, fraught with unquenchable fire of the free, till I rise resurrected from my rage to portray Lucifer on the world stage. Though I embrace theology of love that all things perish in the wind of time through inevitable hunger for life, I continue to breathe death as I climb enormous mountain of my emptiness that births graceful courage of happiness. Each autumn I pluck ripe plums of desire, addicted to dreams stuck in the machine to channel stoic passion of the choir that sings in wilderness of the unclean where we hear riddles of the hurricane which ponders quaint quintessence of the vain. Ephemeral beauty of the naked song gives my soul freedom to contemplate why I must search for myself in the wild throng that dares to challenge power of the sky through revolution of the taboo thought when I choose to secretly twist the plot. Gazing in vast heart of the black sapphire with arrogant pride in how I know truth, I expose their greed through subtle satire that highlights grace of the messiah sleuth through virile benevolence of his heart when he records our fate with the star chart.
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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