Holy Code Of Doom © Surazeus 2025 10 26 Each time we talk about the nothingness that time contrives from holy code of doom, nine angels scream from white thornapple blooms when I brew wine from petals of their dreams and dance with sweet delirium of faith through alabaster swirl of frantic wings. If we find ancient souls in mirror rocks that waves compose from holy code of doom, nine horses leap across abyss of fate with fractured letters I can use to type reports about commercial platitudes concerning shipment of electric wings. Though children throw sad stories in the sea that transforms ghosts from holy code of doom, nine gods conspire to fool the human race by warping woof of time disangled weird back wracking undead rainbow ordinance defining how we want to eat fried wings. Stoked to skate swift across stark lake of ice with swirling grace from holy code of doom, nine swans erupt from old computer screens on helicopter flight through temple walls beyond reluctant garden where she smiles and freezes in the cube of flashing wings. Besides our bleeding hearts in bowl of glass as butterflies from holy code of doom, nine nurses welcome us to maze of myths where dinosaurs play piano and flute in concert staged to raise funds for the farm since cows fly to the moon on paper wings. Before we talk about the genocide reconfigured by holy code of doom, nine tyrants attend global conference to strategize how they control our minds through system of corporate slavery where we work in factories sewing wings. After I fall nine days and nights to Hell where I stock shelves at the grocery store, nine librarians rearrange strange books to misconstrue progress of history so greedy losers seem to win the game and decorate the White House with glass wings. Each hour weird visions calculate my fate to change my gender back and forth again, nine prophets resurrect Tiresias from field of rubber tires that burn with hate till brave Minerva escapes from my head and restores democracy with her blood.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Orpheus leads Tiresias from cave of Hell and takes him to the abandoned church outside of town where they wear priest robes and conduct mass for zombies.
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