Rebirth Of Our Nation © Surazeus 2023 05 08 More than beautiful for the wheel of being, that spins our nothing into the will-be with great determination to compose strange art out of our painful awkwardness, we succeed in singing what our heart wants though indifferent Nature ignores our faith. Since we continue to fail to transcend fraught limitations of this clumsy body, we settle into creative routine where we reshape the dreamscape with our words building wheels from material of faith to bear burdens of wealth on our vain quest. If only the wheel of fortune endures when fate determines who will live and die during each new scene in the social play, then I will exit stage of grand success, refusing to compete for any prize that would but chain my spirit to the game. When I achieve grand style of expertise through fashionable manner of the mindset designed to strategize infamous pride, I find myself trapped in my own success that blocks ascension of my shining soul to higher realms of artistic expression. Awake on highest hill of the Nowhere, where ancient stones hum timeless melodies, I measure anonymity with rule forged from flames of arrogance by the god who transforms me into monster of truth because my heart aches at loss of my friend. Still hiding my true self with false disguise reflected in mirror of social media, encoding memories of childhood in jokes, I play role of the mad king on the heath who writes riddles with crow quill dipped in blood to chronicle the rebirth of our nation. The adamantine truss of our vast city, welded haphazardly from bones of angels, expands with time-traveling engine gears through fractal readjustment of brain cells to highlight how the humble shepherd kneels as Goddess of Love crowns him Garden Guard. Too beautiful now for the wheel of fate, that preserves immortal spirit of genes in naked mausoleum of her heart, the World Mother on the lush river shore gives each human being our true demon name so we can enroll in the Rite of Marriage.
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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