Because We Hide Who © Surazeus 2023 09 24 If not how simple trees explain death thought for why consultants twist adventurous tales reluctant blue for iron words core bent not quite as weird we think pink water purrs three times past barrier halls of fractured prayers because we hide who we think we should be. Yet blasting soothe past interrupted coins three angels faceless television show consider how clowns cook persimmon pies pretending how doors seal explosive words obliged with anxious game of pressured chess because we hide who we think we should be. Or apprehensive dare of cautious flight too timid to escape compelling choir encourages us to worry wary cats who might be skeptical if not for time expanding space with reticent despair because we hide who we think we should be. Inclined to tear book pages fortified with stern refusal more afraid than death now quick to opt for daunting terror phased demur as sneering angels still surprised our adamant doctors struggle to fate because we hide who we think we should be. Discouraged by embarrassing contempt rarely seen by photographers of fear not quite browbeaten though initial hoax could coax our seldom unready game too we acquiesce frustrated hope of death because we hide who we think we should be. Creative eagerness obsessing zest creates commitment fast as talent faked still lusting with green ardency of faith however fortunate we prove past zeal with sour sensuality through pursuit because we hide who we think we should be. Devotion popping bottles off book shelves complains why windows smear cosmetic blood ambitious for enthusiastic lust to ponder vicious passion past rebirth now more intense than doors of shadow homes because we hide who we think we should be. Round table floats above dream-crowded street with fervent eloquence of self-denial contained by curiosity through pride yearning for beauty to possess our brains encoded by affection of respect because we hide who we think we should be.
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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