Journey Of My Soul © Surazeus 2024 11 02 If I can figure journey of my soul through solemn discourse of moonlight on water, I may hear voices of the dead explain how best to live this brief confusing life by flapping both wings I call Chance and Choice to lift weight of my mind above the world. If I have to play the lunatic knave against tyranny of beautiful lies, I shall with boisterous courage of the fool oppose aggressive tactics of brute thugs who attempt to control how people live by enforcing laws that benefit them. If startled ecstasy of shocked insight propels my journey past the Promised Land, I am determined to map the waste land so those who follow way of psychic growth know where to go after escaping Heaven to find secret spring of the star-eyed horse. If the damned have finished howling their hearts with vigorous dance of the fallen-apart, I wind my heart in mummy cloth of time to ponder natural beauty of the mind too marvelous for prison of the clock that teaches everyone how to weep once. If we could wake from dream of cannon fire that now shakes every quarter of the world, I will insist I exercise my right to vote for how my fate shall write my end, yet I hear laughter in the hall of pride that cracks mirrors which dare reveal the truth. If ghosts on dark eerie night of All Souls drink inebriated breath of my heart, I will build new Heaven from godless bones on ruins of cathedrals and state banks to prove our hands can farm food from the Earth for wealth we create from shadow of death. If I must evade demons of despair who slip through crack of light to haunt our lives, I dress in costume of the noble king, which is the opposite of what I am, so they cannot find me on signless road where I roam to escape every lost home. If I find refugees from civil war wandering without end on the trail of tears, I build the immense miraculous home that can house with its generosity every homeless person lost in the world who give each other new names of the heart.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Orpheus documents the journey of his soul for the world travel television series that plays reruns for forty years after he disappears mysteriously in the Almaty Mountains.
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