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Tuesday, February 17, 2026

Evening Star Of Choice

Evening Star Of Choice
© Surazeus
2026 02 17

If I feel the Evening Star through thick fog 
that half-veils tidal flats of kelp on rocks, 
though my eyes cannot perceive its sharp light, 
I may breathe time-swirled element of faith 
that jagged pool of invisible light 
may cleanse my wounded heart with honesty. 

Lost in dark fog of brutal watershine, 
far from safe cave of innocent respect, 
I transform into heron in low tide 
with eager hope to soar on graceful wings 
above contentious crowds of worshippers 
who seek to grasp bright calcium flame of truth. 

Scattered feathers from fallen angels twitch 
in hungry sand of fractured polity, 
oblique with evasive context of rage 
misleading sharp-eyed devils who require 
typographic planes of opaque dispute 
drawn from excessive expertise of fear. 

Imprinted layers of conceptual fate, 
still wrapped in umber clarity of trust, 
define unended journeys beyond fear 
condensed as statues guarding halls of lies 
where whispered secrets of gauzed confidence 
conceal our souls in figurines of glass. 

Though startling sequence of dream formulas 
pluck private strings of cordial scarcity, 
hall mirror faces mirror of my brain 
with law of splendid light to balance pain 
against collapsing telescope of fate 
through which I see the Evening Star of Choice. 

Amazed by radiance of the unseen house, 
preserving shocked glare of the puppeteer, 
I light ten thousand candles of my heart 
to highlight origin of tangled words 
that multiply our bodies from desire 
which thrive sparked on infinity effect. 

Electric construct of my mental Self, 
style modeled on profile of Orpheus 
refined by quantum energy of love, 
provides framework for weird ontology 
I program from puzzle of spectral souls 
which animates my fragile flame of dreams. 

Syntax of artificial chronicles, 
commissioned from my heart by primal gods, 
converts my thoughts to tangled threads of words 
which angels weave in global tapestries 
presenting unreal shadows of our brains 
we play as riddles in Plutonian homes. 



1 comment:

  1. Orpheus teaches the young bard how to alchemically transform disparate elements of conceptual riddles into hymns to Athena and Apollo.

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