Angelic Soul Of Flight © Surazeus 2025 09 08 Connection of my soul to wondrous glow of writhing flames that dance with lithe desire expands my heavy body with hot air so I float randomly around the fire to mock mute nothingness of anguished death that tries to drag me down in bleak despair. If I can keep my failures organized by sitting at lame desk of demon bones, because the frantic thoughts I will not speak clutter into blocking wall of regret, I might escape the endless maze of myths by flapping tattered wings of arrogance. I fail to sing psalm free of suffering when I reach down in dark bottomless well to grasp divine light of projective breath when my frail body lies porous in gloom so alien words of faceless strangers seep in exhausted heart of fake liberty. Frantic to escape sharp voice of despair that lashes my heart with bloody disgust, I run unleashed in wilderness of lies, fueled by terror of unspoken truth which tethers my angelic soul of flight with heavy anguish of visceral joy. Yet when I stagger in dry field of skulls with divining rod that buzzes with hope, I trust voice of the star-blazed oracle that blooms inside fertile womb of weird faith swollen huge with grief of the Pythian howl trapped in tangled words of the bitter book. Cracking alphabet stone of mute contempt, I shout wordless horror of seed rebirth with shuddering beauty of the god-mouthed clown translating prayers of clock-encrusted trees as I decipher unsayable truths with blinding instinct of the fallen fool. Losing track of time on the mountain trail that loops back through relentless time of fear, I dream about unborn children of light who crawl on sparkling sand beside the sea through slippery shadow of sweet innocence to transform incomprehensible respect. With slight reversal of conceptual thoughts, disoriented by trauma constrained, I upend virtual world of obvious lies with overwhelming laughter forged from tears to dance among disordered facts of death, then rise reborn from cleansing waves of love.
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, September 8, 2025
Angelic Soul Of Flight
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Orpheus cradles pregnant Ophelia in his arms as they kneel before Pythia who chants strange oracle spell about angelic soul of flight that prophesies how their child will found a new world religion.
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