We Feel Safe At Home © Surazeus 2025 03 23 Home is the place in time where I am born with each new day Earth spins around the sun, so I should never feel sad or forlorn with you beside me to play games of fun, for though we wander far from our first hearth we feel safe at home anywhere on Earth. With eyes fixed on the past where I come from I walk backward to the new home I build while chanting spells in rhythm with the drum as founding member of the Singers Guild, recording tales of heroes we adore whose mothers wait still in their open door. Old bearded wizard in the forest grove explains to me the past is never dead, and not even past as our memory trove, for history is the dream poem in our head that we recite each night in feasting hall to praise the dead whose masks hang on the wall. On flowing water of our history ghost we sail our boat of life on stream of time, then feast in temple of the generous host who offers wisdom of the ritual chime while actors play dramatic roles on stage in tales I record on the timeless page. The future always seems invisible while the past presents everything we know, yet our own tale is still discoverable as we resist fate to go with the flow through fierce subversion of the ancient truth now redesigned by our messiah sleuth. Each present moment beams beyond our reach so we record events as they occur to synthesize truth our descendants teach reversing roles of God and Lucifer as tyrant overthrown by rebel clown whom we elect to wear the thorny crown. Though frightened crowd attends fear of their rage at innocent scapegoat they sacrifice, the victim resurrects as victor sage who shelters the oppressed in paradise, for Heaven is commune of equal rights according to great epic no one writes. I strum lyre and sing, wherever I roam in mountains or vales of our spinning Earth my heart I carry with me is my home for soul of each human is beyond worth, thus we must fight against cruel tyranny to keep our global democracy free.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Orpheus strums lyre of Mercury and sings tales of heroes in the feasting hall where Zeus proclaims his son Lucifer will reign as the new Temple Host.
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