Brutal Wars Of Genocide © Surazeus 2024 02 12 Each rain drop that flows down the window pane reflects timeless light rays from the first star that gleamed after first flash of the big bang, so I feel with each deep pulse of my heart relentless waves of psychic energy that ripple across the whole universe. Since I was born near sixty years ago millions of people all around the world have died in brutal wars of genocide while I hitchhiked across this strange new land and played songs about journey of the soul to build safe haven in chaotic Hell. My ancestors sailed across the wild sea, seeking Heaven four hundred years ago, to escape genocide of holy wars when kings in castles, claiming divine right bestowed by God, slaughtered innocent people who refused to bow before jeweled crowns. Still men who claim they are the Hand of God, commissioned to erect their nation-state on bones of people who oppose their power, attack their brothers to destroy their souls as they eradicate them from the Earth so children of their clan have room to play. Each apple blooming from the Tree of Life that sprouts from Garden of Eden with hope converts vast desert waste lands of despair into lush paradise where people dwell in peaceful harmony of honest faith, though only in vision I would make real. Millions of people in jungles and deserts, displaced by roving gangs of greedy men, crowd at barbed-wire fence of bitter despair in Jahannam, and by the River Styx, for they are pawns stuck on chess board of power, sacrificed by men in mansions of gold. No guardian angels in silver air planes descend from clouds of Heaven, sent by God, to rescue people trapped in maze of Hell, and fly them safely to the Promised Land where they could build new homes from secret dreams to raise their children killed by bombs of hate. Each body buried in indifferent Earth contains unique genetic signature that never again will grow as conscious life, so all their memories of beauty and love vanish in light rays from the eyeless star that watches us live and die without care.
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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