Forgetting My Own Face © Surazeus 2026 04 19 If I end up forgetting my own face, designed by passion my ancestors felt while walking bravely against wind of fear, I might wear mask of Cloud God to conceal amalgamated nothingness of self which angels document in clever jokes. Strolling in field of dandelion flowers, which explode in wishes of lonely souls, I ponder nothingness at end of time that traps me in this temporary body through which I aspire to climb mountain peaks as witness to transcendent state of mind. Because I know no fate of falling rain while hiding in ruins of paradise, slouched on huge stones that fell from fractured walls, I organize list of tasks to complete in mission to found empire on god skulls when death bequeaths weird secret of rebirth. Dark shadow looms above vast maze of streets where apes in suits play gods in wars of truth while I drive children from school to graveyards where they conduct random experiments to understand how trees bloom rich in Spring from coffin where the vampire god lies stiff. If I end up designing my new face from masks of gods long fallen in disgrace, I may be forced to wrestle before dawn eccentric angel of our nation-state who lives in mansion by polluted lake as castle capital of Avalon. True friendship chains our hearts with bitter faith we try to sell from market stalls of hope when butterfly god in her chrysalis hangs from rugged cross on hill of skulls which sprouts new limbs with apples of the sun so I sail river boat across the sea. In noble fight against the tyrant king we must not falter at the darkest hour for Justice needs our courage to transcend schemes of greed rich bankers promulgate in van attempt to control minds of men who wake from weird hypnotic trance he spelled. Ophelia finds lyre of Mercury rusting on tombstone of last troubadour whose spirit wakes again inside her brain so she ascends ziggurat of world fame to untwist political games of power with pungent beauty of the psychic flower.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Orpheus interviews Ophelia for position of his secretary because he manages new Museum of Intergalactic Art at the University of Zarathia.
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