Replicate My Soul © Surazeus 2023 04 18 The humanness that aches inside my bones glows out with radiant anguish of pure love to light my journey in this world of gloom as I replicate my soul in mute clones who will never know more than how to rove with anxious pleasure for the day of doom. Alive with love that screams out sunset flame, I trip on devil wings beyond the moon to hide in ancient stories people tell as we quest for secret of the true name bleeding from our eyes of hope all too soon for our bodies to ring with the prayer bell. Moving my body through the city zone farther from my original homeland in vain quest to find my lost family, I tear weird heart from my blossoming bone when no angel wing grows out of my hand through fantastic passion of alchemy. Outside of language I am wordless wind, awake with horror in strange solitude that reads my sorrow in the bleeding book, till Death takes me to fields where flowers bend with naked whispers of our social feud contrived by arrogance of the dream cook. My heart, as offspring of my hungry soul, wants to feel how your body glows with light based on unspoken riddles of the fool who steals our names so he can play the role of national hero who can win the fight with rebellious stance against royal rule. I know the country of the weeping hills where lonely water sings with eager stone to build safe island from hopes we may share since vibrant flow of wisdom ever fills silent valleys with ghosts of Avalon who receive nothing for their fervent prayer. Still looking now along the forest floor for black feather from the dead angel wing, body vibrant with voices of the dead who linger laughing in the mortal door, I gaze at Death with sea-blue eyes of spring to see what can exist outside my head. So when I behold her beautiful face, shining with gold of Venus in the sky, I embrace her spirit with loving moan, so we share pleasure of creative grace that spirals from diamond of the God Eye till I wake and find I am not alone.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Tuesday, April 18, 2023
Replicate My Soul
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment