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Wednesday, December 10, 2025

Echo Of Transient Fire

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. 



1 comment:

  1. 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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