Relate My Weird Tale © Surazeus 2026 02 24 If she spends her days in tears people shed, she may lose her eyes to the faceless god who looks just like her father of the moon so she explains with psychiatrist tone that we have a nameless stranger in us whose dark feelings are superfluous. She holds her breath with courageous attempt to prove her companions should be exempt from sudden nothingness of wordless death who like to sing with oceanic breath assertive psalm of holy dizziness to the dead on bridge of forgetfulness. Because we learned to ambulate upright while dancing in the shallow ocean tide, she tells me she feels dizzy in her heart because our world is spinning off the chart, then reminds me that I should change my life after she decides she will be my wife. She digs in mass grave of dead languages to find the expert ghost of loneliness while hanging from the building roof of pride that she has found where all the angels hide by singing with the mocking bird of fate who untwists formulas of selfish hate. When Death stands near us in the twilight zone, she touches truth that radiates from the phone, then measures fluctuating flow of time that morphs my soul into the Shadow Mime so I teach you to chant alchemic spells which helps me find my eyes in runic wells. We burn dead body of our fallen god whose spirit calculates psychotic code required by angels of the justice squad to track my evolution through each node four hundred million years from fish to fool who plays humble king in the play at school. Since I am hungry for electric fruit, I drive white truck while wearing satin suit, accelerating through each cosmic frame across the multiverse to find my name carved with seraphic runes on granite cliffs that relate my weird tale with petroglyphs. When she traces our sprawling family tree to find roots of our brains in physic key, she finds first person in our gene bloodline is Owl of Athena trapped in the shrine where Mercury sings of the Traveler who hides that he is son of Lucifer.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Translate
Tuesday, February 24, 2026
Relate My Weird Tale
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Orpheus leads Victoria to the palace of mirrors where she finds her father Jupiter lying dead beneath the portrait with his secret face.
ReplyDelete