Pretty Queen Of Tears © Surazeus 2024 03 13 The white horse only guides me by surprise as captive of Apollo, god of songs, who calls me with strange voice of motor cars programmed by Theseus to wake the dead, electric shock therapy of cruel jokes that crack invisible mirrors with faith. When I was troubled by gold evening light that stretches boundaries of my ardent mind, you molded my body from ocean slime with tangled knots no sailor can untie, though I climb the tallest tree in the world to understand why monkeys love to sing. Stealing words of detective story plots to bribe my sad collaborating Muse, I tell fictional version of my life in memoir full of lies that no one reads about how snakes in apple trees can trick fools into believing God loves their names. My eyes will never see what my hands do because I type words on blank page of truth to confess with verbal rawness of faith deception I perform to scam the rich by fooling them to believe the black rose contains the secret of eternal life. Because I love the pretty Queen of Tears, who opens windows on hot summer nights, I dance ballet on the razor-sharp edge of honest passion between naked souls who pass each other in the sultry dusk with brutal swagger of the hungry dead. Though History wants to live with what is here, clutching my heart with gentle dragon claws, I choose to accept that all humans die with unfinished drama of our desire luring us way too deep in maze of myths for us to escape trap of great events. Cows wait patiently in the field of dreams where I grip high-voltage wire of ambition with laughable plan to crown myself king while hunting predatory clowns with stealth who wear my terrifying innocence as angelic mask to hide their scarred face. Midway through journey of my futile quest to find the Holy Grail inside my heart, I drop dead in the middle of my show, still gripping mask of my negative self that melts in screaming alphabets of faith because I wake not in the Afterlife.
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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