Tyranny Of Shocking Bliss © Surazeus 2024 04 15 Oblique regret for nothing I could say disturbs dark distance of the lonely way that measures tyranny of shocking bliss explained through logic of analysis which I should calculate to find out why snow flakes spiral from mirror of the sky. Encoding dreams in scribble of the joke long before my mother of oceans woke, I carve my story on stone edifice about the moment sad strangers first kiss to celebrate the marriage of true minds with magic rings that consciousness unbinds. Because my aching heart is almost dead I gaze at grape jelly on toasted bread with deep insight in soul mortality which highlights conceptual futility that we employ to avoid searing pain in project to conjugate loss with gain. When I relate old tale of the Unknown, I found encased in wisdom of the stone, my heart, once shipwrecked on perceptive words, restores to life aggressive thought of birds who bring me mushrooms by the misty lake while I search for the real inside the fake. Weird faceless ghosts of people I once knew, I glimpse between fraught shadows of the true, address compassion of unchanging gloom that floats unseen in fracture of the room where I catch drops of rain in hands of hope though I see her walk slow on mountain slope. Concealed in empty air of spacious faith, while evening sun unfolds face of the wraith, I wait for wind in willow trees to call my secret name erased from every wall despite how much we love each other now, untwisting sorrow into joy of how. Bright lantern of my pain-adjusted heart reveals nothingness of the star-wrought chart predicting rebirth of our ancient gods in humble bodies of brave astronauts who cast ideal image of human souls with mirror that reweaves our social roles. Each star that claims me as its referent beams fierce immortal rays, more confident than laughing horses, that will resurrect first thought considered by the holy sect founded by riddles of the blind centaur who invents engine that powers the car.
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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