Fragile Life Of Faith © Surazeus 2025 08 09 The homeland of my heart changes each day I wake in eerie light of the strange sun, and sing of distances down signless roads to bridge infinite nothing of respect that spirals vastly between I and You with uncertain connection of dream words. Invisible thoughts I speak in whole words coincide with visions our brains express through principle of freedom time extends across abyss of cosmic paradox that gathers sense from countersense of truth on which we build this fragile life of faith. Across expanding boundaries of new words, that we invent with automatic song, I thrust unconscious passion for lush land so words impregnant silence with weird dreams through reminiscence for the spiritual contained in static theme now possible. Yet I pre-member life I soon will live stored safe in stone of river-flowing hope rendered more visible by placid flight essential for unhidden confidence consistent with conceptual accuracy we share in songs around the crackling fire. Receptive to connecting radiance through core attitude of recited spells, I measure fierce duration of cold breath when I express experience I create to master methods of perceptive growth exploring foothills of remaining faith. To claim uniqueness trapped in veil of change based on shared cognizance of loyal friends I chant spells which checkmate reality constricted by assertion of faint chance too random for incursions to regress from shattered remnants of forgotten tales. Porous construct of our fraught origin, contrived by maternal instinct to search for thoughts shaped round as berries and mushrooms, knows we capitulate from cognizance since nobody becomes what they are not, ordered by monotone fragments of truth. As representatives of divine light, we arrogate tragic tales of success for ourselves alone against tides of change to claim responsibility for love that radiates through mirrors of weird fate on which we build this fragile life of faith.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Orpheus lounges in class with his feet up on the desk as Paul Celan explains conceptual poetics of post-traumatic stress reorder.
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