Tick Of My Clockwork Heart © Surazeus 2025 09 13 If you hear sharp tick of my clockwork heart echo in ancient forest of stone trees, wrap your sinuous arms around my chest and embrace wordless anguish of desire that sparks pleasure when our bodies entwine with nonchalant excess of perfumed faith. Languorous in sensuous sea of flesh, we writhe with agony in dazzling dream of sailboats voyaging across wild waves with bodies open to the glorious sky that shimmers with eternal heat of hope as we emerge from shadows of lost time. Shadows of the unveiled invisible reveal electric spirit of my brain sparked by imperishable swirls of truth that reflect hallucinations of hope which lure me far across the rain-wet field through horror of derision and despair. Disheveled tresses of the pretty ghost, who holds ticking clock of my vibrant heart with languorous fascination of the mad, veil atrocious cavern of my vast mind where I chase rainbow of progressive fear to cracked fountain where I drink blood of faith. Bold mother of memories utters prayers illumed by glow of coals in fractured heart with divine attention of lightning strikes that open pure door of momentous fright when I give infinite kisses of trust which rejuvenates the sun in my brain. Hunched on enormous boulder of respect, I gaze from mountain slope in frantic wind at wordless shimmer of the boundless sea where beautiful hawks glide above the world with proper privilege of sudden faith, invisible yet everywhere alive. Yet when I pause in shadowed atrium and listen to soft burble of the stream, weird howl of silver clouds above the sea refracts strange memory of the muddy path where she appears in flash of sudden light with eyes that understand the why of death. Though you hear soft tick of my clockwork heart that vibes in harmony with ocean waves, teach me to focus on the here and now with clear perceptive eyes of fragile faith accepting how flowers bloom from my brain when I try to regenerate the dead.
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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Saturday, September 13, 2025
Tick Of My Clockwork Heart
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Orpheus tries to explain his adventure to his daughter when he returns to the cave of shadows by the sea where she shapes clay into pottery with administrative hands.
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