When We Weep Wildly © Surazeus 2025 10 15 If my heart is luminous with desire at glow of the harvest moon among pines, time might soothe sorrow between silences though we bear lanterns on the end of wands to light narrow path in gloom of despair for those who play protector of the faith. She sets bouquet of constellations safe on table bound by perfect innocence, expensive as heart-wrenching pain of saints who fold bright shadows into long-winged cranes which float with airplanes beyond silver dawns to find the lonely house of faceless gods. We sail across gold ocean of forever, asserting happiness of constant change through tangled vines on bowers of respect which weave weird light of honesty that beams into my heart at whisper of your voice when you express my secret name with trust. Trapped in the fantasy of paradise preserved inside surrounding walls of hope, I build new nest for testament of faith defining how light nurtures stoic seers who paint with bitter blood new prophecies detailing process humans use to grow. Pure blue of shadows on clear brittle snow defines solidity of absent souls who dance with ecstasy of mindless joy around the fractured idol of our god who cannot understand our state of mind when we weep wildly without wings of woe. Among delicate Delphinium blooms I carve mask of my ancestral god on sapphire tablet of celestial light which I bear at our wedding in moonlight by restless lake of elemental ghosts who teach us how to endure suffering. My brain that pulses with virtual dream world spins taut in black hole smaller than my eyes through concentrated core of rainbow swirls that highlight absence of my solar wraith through harmony of presence codified by circle-bearing magnet of true love. Neat transposition between opposites exposes faint road on landscape of grief where faceless people wander without goal in double ring of retrograde regret despite our passion project to create atlas of world history where humans thrive.
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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Wednesday, October 15, 2025
When We Weep Wildly
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Orpheus plays lyre of Mercury while refugees dishomed by civil war wander endless road of nowhere with free tickets to the amusement park of Wonderland.
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