Lost In Paradise Of Hope © Surazeus 2025 12 25 All truths I thought were real melt into tears and flow away in rivers of grim fears till blinding glitter of snow disappears to expose bare trees and stones to sunlight which blast illusions from my blinking sight so I wake surprised from eternal night. Sweet scent of pleasure billowing in woods lures me to grove beside the sparkling stream where cookies dangle from boughs of the pine so I eat delicious sorrow from pain that nourishes my heart with milk of doom though I kneel and pray to idols of gods. Though kidnapped from my village years ago and forced to carry wood on jagged paths as slave exploited by cruel castle king, I broke free from rusted chains of mute fear and wander lost in paradise of hope to find my village burned to swirls of ash. Enslaved for years to serve the castle king, I stand alone beside the cheerful stream, stripped of illusions so my heart can sing garden of freedom I once saw in dream where people work together tending trees that gleam with apples in warm summer breeze. Now that I am free from commercial greed, I wander homeless in vast maze of myths where office clerks raise families in warm homes, staring in windows that frame cozy scenes where they feast and sing at tables of wealth, gathered around pine trees where angels shine. Employed to build homes as the Carpenter, I hammer nails in planks of scented pine, constructing homes in vast suburban tracts where children ride their bikes on curving lanes, but sleep in my van on the river shore, content with my fate as weak money slave. Vast Roman Empire than once ruled the world is fractured now in puzzle of small states that fight over whose mortal man on Earth has right to rule for the Crucified God, so I drive my van west to Idaho where I hike in mountains of sparkling snow. People in hundreds of contending states gather in churches to share food and sing, then pray for coming of the Global King who will unite all nations of the Earth to enforce fair laws of equality under reign of Justice and Liberty.
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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Thursday, December 25, 2025
Lost In Paradise Of Hope
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Orpheus stops in front of the church on Christmas morning and listens to the people singing hymns to celebrate birth of the Global King, then wanders off to eat hamburger and fries in the park.
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