Yet My Heart Endures © Surazeus 2024 01 15 When time falls back in open arms of love death starts awake from gleam of hungry dawn which spurs my heart with anguish of desire to find sweet beauty of pleasure again though sorrow at loss breaks my surprised heart, yet my heart endures to create more love. The village my ancestors built from scratch five hundred years with hands of bloody hope is burned to swirls of cold innocent ash by rampaging gang of arrogant thieves who drive us into wilderness of fear, yet my heart endures to find paradise. Because suspicious winds of hungry hills batter our bodies with sarcastic hope the frail flickering flame of faith we tend with trembling hands in ring of bitter rocks almost deserts us each bleak afternoon, yet my heart endures to nurture faint hope. Ghost of my body haunts our homestead farm, performing daily routines of respect to maintain production of friendly wheat, while I huddle against cruel hilltop ridge, floating in dizzy terror of mute death, yet my heart endures with handful of seeds. Tall horse with ambitious eyes of concern guides our way among sharp ignorant crags with patient compassion for our dire state, till through jagged pillars of confidence we arrive in vale of the generous lake, so my heart endures with firm gratitude. Kneeling on moist shore of romantic lake, body pulsing with bright epiphany of unbelievable hope deceiving fate, I plant seeds of wheat with prayer to Blue Sky that nature grant my wish to start anew, so my heart endures with cautious regard. Constructing new home from reverent stone, where we conspire to build new paradise, we embark on daily raid to explore indifferent wilderness of devious woods on noble crusade to befriend the land, so my heart endures with nascent esteem. When time leaps forward on wings of desire death lingers in shadows of tolerance which motivates my heart with anxious faith to treasure beauty of nature I love though sorrow hunts my apprehensive heart, yet my heart endures to create true love.
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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