Soul Without The Brain © Surazeus 2024 12 30 The beach without sand of unchanging time supports slow motion of aggressive hope when hunger urges awareness of thought which fuels locomotion of fierce intent with harsh inspiration of each grim breath to crawl across eternity of now. The slope without the curve of measurement resists persistent hope of constrained will to climb steep otherness of silver why high toward upper expanse of safe desire till purpose beyond reach of helpless goals releases thrust of existence to stand. The well without the bottom of rain eyes lures desperate agony of nothingness with brilliant visions of worlds undesigned to reach for sparkle deep in gloom of time as endless whisper leaking thoughts of clouds fills hollow happiness with truthless rocks. The voice without the mouth expressing hope vibrates tsunami waves of innocence far swirling closer to moon mirror gleam based on insistent pace of wordless song still wrecking fragile concepts newly stored safe behind wavering walls of contempt. The day without the hour of static clocks computes new memory old gods chronicle unsure of how to reconcile complaints opposing programs of successful growth quick to decay from unsupported claims corrupted sooner than storms aggregate. The volume without dimension of faith enclosing cordial canticles of clues counters cosmic joke of wholeness derived from cluttered fragments unpuzzled again at crack of dawn that stirs within the heart vast multiverse of possible untruths. The soul without the brain of memories vibrates with pulsing attitude of pride releasing radiant facts that build world views composed of features forming ideal masks we wear on stage as we perform our fate we choose each hour of struggle to survive. The tale without the text of tragedy gestating inside book of soul rebirth describes pure fantasy of world events expressed as magic spell through energy required to maintain minimal expense when I survive shipwreck in this new world.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Orpheus crawls across the beach from the shipwreck, stumbles up the hill to drink water from a well, then tries to figure out where in the world he is lost now.
ReplyDelete