We Grant No Kings © Surazeus 2025 06 09 Based on illusion of our time on Earth we perform defiance of faceless gods with tools designed by intermittent need to adjust slipstreaming atoms of hope till Lucifer describes how to reconstruct image of mankind we think is divine. Intense vibration of the star-god brain spurs trees to bloom from blood-soaked soil of fate so we remember every bad event that traps us in recurring loop of fear though we stand bold against cruel tyranny, determined not to care if we are crushed. Taught by the Star Gazer with diamond eyes to analyze progress of state affairs, I climb stairs of the tower to the sky where God presides at oak desk of insight to manage corporate empire of his greed, exploiting human bodies to gain wealth. Where pink peonies bloom from graves of gods we dance with wild abandon of despair till cute white Japanese Snow Fairy tit lands on frail branch of the old cherry tree, and gazes in my soul with piercing eyes black as lightless hole of eternity. We grant no kings right to exploit our souls by standing silently on busy streets with signs that boldly state our point of view that men who grasp at dictatorial power collapse from fraught exertion of despair so we record their failure to adapt. Since my immortal soul of demon genes got split in two weird doppelganger idols I contradict myself with timeless truths based on impossible code of distrust despite how I think time should construct fate with subtle laughter of the falling snow. Yet sad horse in clothes closet of lost faith waits amid dresses hanging from my skull, while young girl sneers at me with sly respect, then opens every door around the world that might release from shadow of contempt brave figures of cosmic authority. Discarding orders of the angry king with sharp regression of my mirrored soul, I recount tale of patriotic boys who turn against mute tyrant in the tower till Solemn Jester plays sweet saxophone to indicate democracy has won.
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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Monday, June 9, 2025
We Grant No Kings
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Orpheus grants no kings authority in free democratic republic of Zarathia where we live with liberty and justice for all.
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