Energy Of Anxious Hope © Surazeus 2023 10 02 Excessive energy of anxious hope drives me to push through torrents of cold rain though I stumble across steep mountain slope because sunlight of peace blooms from harsh pain, for mountains are built from bones of the dead and the wind blows with their voices unsaid. The people I love most rot in cold ground on which I walk to find the Promised Land where I pretend I am still glory bound though I work building boats with bloody hand, for oceans seethe with spirits of the dead and I dance wild where demons fear to tread. In desert salon I gamble with Fate to free my people from hard chains of greed for though the Devil tries to lock the gate sweet Liberty will sprout from bitter seed, for rivers writhe with sorrows of the dead and I hunt Hell where sad monsters have fled. When sneering gangsters dare kidnap young girl and force her to wear white lace bridal gown, I shoot them from dark woods where ravens whirl till I bury them all far outside town, for sand dunes whistle with songs of the dead and I respect her choice whom she will wed. Down from rain-wet hills of Scotland I stride to escape soldiers who slaughter my clan, then sail west on stormy Atlantic tide to fight civil war for the slavery ban, for children play chase with ghosts of the dead and I arrive with wagons of fresh bread. Aggressive passion of desire to live in journey to transcend blind fear of death motivates me to create what I give while floating in cave of dreams on star breath, for mothers remember deeds of the dead and I am stuck forever in my head. Spark of compassion glowing in my heart illuminates empty temple with faith where I plot human history on dream chart based on how mortals worship the star wraith, for fathers fight to protect tribal dead and I recite fabulous tales I read. Alone in shadow of the godless hall where arrogant kings tried to rule the Earth, I translate bloody writing on the wall that encodes ancient secret of rebirth, for parents record weird names of the dead and I sing well what has never been said.
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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