Absence Of Souls We Love © Surazeus 2025 11 23 My international thoughts trigger trees to scream about morality of hope which humans dig from caverns of desire then forge computers programmed with dream code that help our species evolve from star slime so we can dance with joy in grim twilight. Based on electric innocence of eggs we leap from cliff of arrogant dismay to float high above bottomless abyss where spirits of the dead lurk in our hearts with thirst of vampires for eternal life though we hide our fears in cute fairy tales. Each moment of awareness our brains beam we stand on sharp edge of eternity, unbalanced by lithe vertigo of faith, yet we assert emboldened steps of trust to manage how time still unwinds our hearts because ghosts are absence of souls we love. So I dip cautious foot of curious fear in gushing stream of time that swirls with light to feel how currents of communal change affect society through choice I make to take the signless road less traveled by when I set out colonize the world. While sitting at wood desk in upper room of my apartment on Dream Avenue, I listen to sharp sounds of busyness in car engines and childish shouts of play which I translate to story of the soul while typing letters on blank page of time. High literary attributes of fate describe conceptual actions people take through each encounter of the seventh kind in face to face transactions in dream states which fuels commercial life of world empires when agents organize corporate exchange. I watch ten million sons of Icarus fly swift around in Heaven above Earth to broker contracts between businesses who buy and sell our manufactured goods in games that define castle comedies directed by King Lear who lost his crown. Yet in the end all I can think about is how much I adore my loyal spouse who walks our way of life with me each day on countless roads already blazed and named by hungry humans for ten thousand years which all lead back to the garden of ghosts.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Orpheus feels absence of Eurydice as the shimmering ghost of her vanished personality who haunts his steps wherever he goes to sing in villages across the land from sea to shining sea.
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