Echo Of Transient Fire © Surazeus 2025 12 10 We fall from echo of transient fire when bodies dissolve in oceans of light that forges our bones into frantic words we sing to channel sorrow into love preserved on pages torn from holy books that flutter wings of sly ambitious hope. Unbearable coldness of hurried breath constrains elastic brains with moral laws contrived by strict procedures angels use to wake as elemental beings of soil inspired by incidental leap of faith till I stop breathing at the end of time. We watch attention of our hungry minds shift through each writhing spiral curve of fate with humble wonder at flowers that bloom from eyes of corpses trapped in trunks of trees because we welcome birds on trembling limbs secure with knowledge that we all will die. We float in moon boat on time-steady stream to learn about the dead who disappear because we fear they wander bodiless somewhere behind us on the vanished road and call our names with voices soft as wind that causes leaves of anguish to retreat. If we stop breathing subtle honesty when stones allow adjustments of regret through mental focus on exploding words we might react with physical intent to register random absurd events based on identity we claim with prayer. Pathetic laughter sparks new flame of hope through urgent anguish to transcend our pain so we discuss heart-shocking sense of loss that twists subjective ambience from fate based on unflappable resolve to live with brave attention against fractured lies. Thus we transcend multidimensional planes through complex registry of secret names despite our catalytic trust in books that burgeon text in rockets of brave snow stuck in proverbs that detonate our hearts which leaves us stranded on the signless road. I search myself for alien mysteries and find that no one thinks I am alive so I become reflection in the pool who questions if my face is even real till I turn around and gaze in your eyes as we rise from echo of transient fire.
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, December 10, 2025
Echo Of Transient Fire
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Orpheus chuckles with delight as he opines that there is no greater joy than creating art for the sheer joy of creating art.
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