Ghosts In Television Screens © Surazeus 2024 08 10 I want to climb up in the tree with you and talk about the way butterflies sing while children dance around the laughing horse before nuclear bombs erase the timeline where everyone lives happy by the lake while Death and Love play chess to win our souls. Lost in the subway to the multiverse, we live ten thousand years on every world that branches from beginning of the dream we share while chatting on the pyramid about the rules we choose to guide our play till someone kills the holy messenger. Awake on mountain of the burning bush, I gather apples from the tree of life then descend to valley of the humming toad, bringing diamonds to refugees from war who follow beacon light of liberty First Mother holds high on the ocean shore. Because we crown the crocodile king who rules the Earth with bitter teeth of faith another timeline crushes paradise so savior of the world with laser eyes rides into town on donkey of world peace to shoot the tyrant wearing mask of gold. Because our children walk the trail of tears, they use as ink to write new holy books, we leave our ghosts in television screens to prove theory of relativity which undulates with waves of particles weaving tightly coiled matrix of the mind. Still gazing in dark cavern of your eyes, I want to sing sweet melody of love to fill your heart with pleasure of delight that we breathe passion of the glowing sun because your smile inspires my heart with hope that we might live another day on Earth. Though eyeless boy sings in the wilderness heart-aching melodies of timeless love, no one can hear sweet timbre of his words that ring forever in vast empty woods till meteors smash our spinning globe to shards which rotate lost in nothingness of space. The saffron finch in the broad hickory tree tells me how the sun wheels across the sky and why rivers flow round hills to the sea so I stand with Goddess of Liberty to render justice in our hostile world for we are ghosts in television screens.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Orpheus offers apples to our ghosts in television screens.
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