Join The Global Choir © Surazeus 2023 12 25 With clockless paradigm of tangled streets that havoc motion of demanding time we walk through flashing prism of weird rain though flowers leak from books no god designs, so we hide memories in weird fairy tales about paradise in forgotten vales. With savage bombs contained in music notes that swirl from steel piano on sand dunes we predicate new words from dragon eggs still trapped in fragile television screens, so we measure distance we travel now as grim illusion of the moon-white cow. With cruel lessons learned from bitter clones that twist our minds with new confusing facts we grow no wiser than thunderless clouds that cast green shadows on deserted plains, so we stare blankly at the fluttering leaves since we cannot see the mother who grieves. With solid honesty of wind-tossed hats that have no magic to animate ghosts we wait for devils to return our dreams long trapped in books that no one ever reads, so we return to kitchen of the queen who reveals secrets only gods have seen. With laughing pear trees of arrogant owls that divide the stars with spells in reverse we navigate the wilderness of skulls to find ethereal life that love can bring, so we push open glass door to the bank to find Jesus when the Titanic sank. With lonely horses on the river shore that teaches us glory of life is brief we disappear in mirror of our souls in gamble to become the mask of death, so we follow the North Star back to Hell where Idunna gives us drink from her well. With cosmic energies of psychic games that charge our bodies with constructive lust we vanish in the stories children tell to pass the longest dark night of the year, so we remember how to light the fire when we decide to join the global choir. With sense of time erupting from my eyes that ravages hard castle walls of kings we fall to Earth in weird delirium to garden instead of rule the empire, so we gather in the glass church to sing while Solarius forges the dream ring.
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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