Lost In Fake Tomorrows © Surazeus 2025 12 14 While young girl plays sweet melody of sorrow on heart-aching strings of the violin, I ponder why, when I express despair through tangled threads of arrogant dismay, I win grand prizes for anxiety, rewarded for how bitterly I scream. Old gray-haired man in room of shining windows traps joyful sprites in cores of mandolins played by blind troubadours at country fairs whose music leads the lost through crowded maze where idols worshipped by societies come alive as puppets in secret dreams. As young boy stares at keys of huge piano, to breathe deep spirit of its harmony, his heart transforms to swan of ardent faith that guides him from Tuonela to his home where he attends to faceless ghost of sound, then plays heart-breaking tune of secret love. Old sad-eyed woman of the weeping willows frees crippled slaves from social tyrannies who preach salvation sold by stellar wraiths in brave rebellion against righteous domes built by warriors buried in high mounds studied by archaeologists with gloves. If tired mother cries at song of the sparrow that flutters wings of hope in cage of fate, mad jester driving full delivery truck abandons capitalist money game to meditate outside the mountain cave while she washes dishes and clothes all day. Yet angry father, lost in fake tomorrows, decides to return from fixing house gates to find his home possessed by playful Pucks commissioned by Oberon to steal names and organize roles of newly-freed slaves who perform boat races on sunlit bays. Mike counts red chickens by the red wheelbarrow glazed with rainwater after the sea storm, then boils one in the pot on Christmas Eve for his children to feast before they die of starvation in Land of Liberty while singing hymns to Savior of the World. Jane spends all night assembling perfect arrows that Janus needs while guarding Realm of Forms, then cooks chicken soup for blind queen who grieves death of Apollo with electric eyes who tried to lift mankind from poverty with help from gang of self-appointed heralds.
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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Sunday, December 14, 2025
Lost In Fake Tomorrows
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Orpheus knocks on doors that never open to sell Encyclopedia of World Knowledge to lonely housewives who follow him to the Land of Liberty.
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