Game Of Catch The Snake © Surazeus 2025 10 02 Out in the lonely hills of somewhere else she walks with shadows of people she loves, and gathers wings of angels from the dirt that quiver glumly in her trembling hands till her tears transform them to butterflies which flock around tombstones of dead gods. Amazed at beauty of sunlight on hills that glow with stark admission of mute guilt, she asks the toad on mushroom of respect about the meaning of life, but he croaks eccentric psalm of bitter honesty for how he always seems to lose the game. Fame mocks our vain attempts to garner wealth from cracked foundation of our quivering globe, yet we continue to gouge hills of hope for minerals to construct empire of power based on endless calculating machines that analyze data of human events. Startled by snow drifting up to the sky while Death plays haunting melodies on flute, she turns her face away from human games and dwells alone in high tower of mirrors where she can see, beyond the mask of beauty, inherent spark of weird divinity. Uncanny vision that refracts our brains glows clear before her eyes of fractured glass, depicting mural of social events where gods perform dramatic roles of power in fierce contention between nation-states to control the world narrative of truth. Before snow falls again on unbowed heads of humble pilgrims in the Holy Land, she scatters apple seeds on sunbaked sand, while horses gallop in exuberant hills, to prove she knows the secret of success as ageless Pythia in her golden cage. Engaged in joyous game of catch the snake, schoolchildren gather fragments of their dreams to greet the jolly man in long red robe who teaches them the joy of giving truth, but he transforms into the plastic idol who can do nothing but chuckle in glee. Exploring merry hills of somewhere else where ravens spy on children of dead gods, she climbs the highest peak of honesty to view whole world narrative of truth in which each person plays appointed role with strict obedience to the laws of Death.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Orpheus kneels before Ophelia in the Holy Land and asks her to be his wife, and she hides her blushing cheeks behind bouquet of plastic flowers in her hands.
ReplyDelete