People Can Be Good © Surazeus 2025 08 14 After Plato reveals the ideal Chair, that vibrates with essence of its true purpose, I sit on concept of its sturdiness, then lift angelic quill of timeless truth to write map of the world in lines of verse expressing love for weird reality. Ungrateful ignorance of the cracked mirror exposes sweet rainwater of despair that flows with lambent horror of respect from brute unwillingness of honest men to criticize deception of the church in harmony with stillness of the lake. Secretions of absent thought clutter hope with pure contamination of concern ensconced with sinister presence of love that muzzles frozen smiles of honesty riveted at parade of overlords who scatter skulls of gods on marble floors. Exception to confinement rules reverts all closing arguments to baseless fear surprised by boredom of the humble king who sifts through evidence of brutal crimes to judge the devil with assertive laws through occasional whispers of sweet lies. Harsh hunger of communion with the dead excels in tentative conclusions formed by reasonable doubt in windowless rooms where faceless ghosts riot for better pay till bud of contingency blooms from graves through disagreement of fierce gratitude. False evidence that birds know how to flow should clarify why invisible hands veil horrible accident of lost love with tattered curtain of heavenly hope despite assurances through martyrdom that true love shall nullify tedium. Assurance of redemption, before death erases sorrow and joy from aching hearts, encourages every fool to sing hymns with cunning trial of resourcefulness that never matches strange alternatives to purchase wish fulfillment from their god. Extending upturned palms of clemency, long empty of our pregnant solitude, we listen to silence for Word of God that whispers in leaves of old apple trees instead of shouting loud in hurricanes because we believe people can be good.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Orpheus tears pages of his hymns from the Anthology of Thirty-Third Century Zarathian Poetry.
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