Weight Of Sadness © Surazeus 2023 04 18 We feel the weight of sadness in gold mist that lingers long over blueberry fields without awkward questions of measurement describing gains and losses on scoreboards, so we lie down at night without ourselves, enthralled by scent of love we choose to share. We observe the small details of despair that nobody else ever notices except the metaphysician of faith who talks about the world we cannot see despite how waves crush diamonds into sand which preserve bright eternal eye of God. We ask the hard questions no one can read because the universe is still in flux of flushing liquor only gods would drink while wandering on the signless road of time since only clocks describe how things will change though windows try to freeze lies into truth. We shuffle cards of truth to read our fate because the fortune teller has gone blind though we cross borders into neverlands in search for paradise of anxious hope that now exists only on the frail vase as painting that depicts what we have lost. We talk about the weather with the ghost who never understands why we must cry at sudden flashing of atomic bombs which redefines the universe we dream when the old wilderness man in black cloak brings us the message we would not receive. We count our eggs while cherry blossoms swirl because we hope to die with the most wealth while friends huddle around the hot campfire to search for clues in riddles of the stone reversing flow of water from the sky which indicates the one who will win first. We kneel before the willow tree of faith with anguish undisguised to ask her why even the most famous will die alone though we must marinate steaks on the grill as sacrifice we offer to the god who lounges on high pyramid of bones. We gather in dark cave of Socrates to talk about ignorance of belief though we have map with route to Salamis where actors hide behind the roles they play because we want to weigh sadness with love till we find secret of eternal life.
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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