Frail Boat Of My Heart © Surazeus 2025 10 07 Our quiet morning on the silver lake can never be interrupted by Death who walks the waste land of the far away with ghosts of children stuck in gentle breeze that ripples mirror surface of my mind as I float mute in frail boat of my heart. She asks me if I can tell her the tale about the man who thinks he owns the world, but I mumble while eating buttered toast that tyrants always fall in sad disgrace because they grasp illusion of control when falling in abyss of nothingness. When Jupiter knocks on door of my home I find him on the porch with Mercury who gives me lyre he carved from dragon bone, so I hitchhike from sea to shining sea and sing on the streets of each nowhere town who elect me to perform the sad clown. If you can see behind persona mask I wear when walking in the public square, then you can read my mind with clarity because I spend all day in empty house watching grand history of the world unfold electric wings for divine right to rule. While I stand faceless with ten thousand hands behind velvet curtain of modesty, great actors strut their hour on stage of faith to replay how Michael and Icarus campaign to win as Emperor of Earth who walks disguised in city maze of lies. You ask if I love beauty of the Earth, but I can find no words scattered in soil adequate to reflect thoughts of my brain though they sprout into demons of respect who teach me how to navigate the world as I search everywhere for tomb of Zeus. Slouched with nonchalance of fake arrogance at wood counter in the highway cafe, I order eggs and toast with sausages, then eat my sorrows to untwist my tongue while cars and trucks flash by to somewhere else till I decide where I should not go next. As the last men left alive on the Earth I stand on stage in the vast concert hall and strum the lyre of Mercury with angst to sing hymns for ghosts of humanity who cannot understand point of the tale I sing with heart-breaking voice of despair.
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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Tuesday, October 7, 2025
Frail Boat Of My Heart
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Orpheus records album of grunge folk songs that he composed while working the night shift as janitor in the dilapidated building with the English Department at the University of Zarathia.
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