Endless Wind Of Time © Surazeus 2025 10 02 When I grasp beauty of life in my hand that pulses with hot blood of eager faith, I hold it towards you with generous love to give you artefact of my bruised heart so I can transfuse passion to your soul based on unique form of intimacy. Heart burdened with strange wisdom of the world, I sleep on treeless plain of humming ghosts where peacocks strut before idol of Zeus who reclaims formal tale of victory through untraditional puzzles of faith which urges we confront our naked souls. I kneel beneath the gleaming silver sky, before the silent rugged mountain range, and ask God for the purpose of my life, then wait in meditation for his voice that whistles in the endless wind of time swirling dust around my weather-worn face. Because purpose is the man-made concept which binds our bodies to the wheel of time with stress of social fame driving our work to fulfill great goal of civic success, I choose to free my body through my mind from intense pressure to assert my pride. Leaping to my feet on the windy plain, I laugh with delight of enlightenment through lithe ebullience of vast insight that even God, I think floats in the sky, has no idea in his cloudy brain what grand purpose our existence might serve. When I stand naked on the dusty plain with honest process to nurture my love, I sing enchanting vision of my heart that enacts play of self-regeneration based on my honest self-examination to strengthen weakness of my loyal mind. Nobody knows the way to Wonderland so we all gather in Stonehenge to sing hymns of honor to Mother of the Earth who molds our bodies from soil of her heart so we feel sweet vibrations of our globe that spins forever in the void of light. Through endless iterations of new change we dance with modern passion of the lost in vain attempt to calculate the cost of losing all our social principles to hungry turtles haunting mental pools that ripple in the endless wind of time.
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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Thursday, October 2, 2025
Endless Wind Of Time
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Orpheus directs the choir of angels and devils singing together in Stonehenge under the wild sky that blazes with a thousand sunsets of holy fire.
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