Fragile Wings Of Thought © Surazeus 2026 04 14 Arrested by white lightning of the mind, I see strange demon outside looking in at how I translate flowers into juice that veils indifference Nature twists in trees which reassemble molecules of souls from wolfish passion to serenity. Love pulses subtly with portentous pride at mute confession no one dares express since darkness molds truth from attentive time aligned with psychic cause of liberty that we embody through obsessive play to build world empire from small colony. Concerned how rainbows pierce our aching hearts at fraction of the cost to produce dreams, I split expansive spectrum in huge books designed to photograph the blazing towers from which mad gods fall far on crippled wings who stare through windows at our cheerful feasts. Unbreakable soul of calm honesty decides to play no drama on world stage in vain attempt to parcel land in shards where children of dead gods design new games while running freely in cathedral hall beneath high arching heavens of regret. Our world keeps spinning in the silent void, sphere bound by writhing threads of energy that weave neural net of my dreaming brain with Ungod dwelling in Garden of Zarth which shimmers everywhere brave men explore because we celebrate core nothingness. If death preserves our fleeting memories in countless four-walled rooms of privacy against assertion of dramatic sun who sits in garden of accomplishments, we humbly walk with Death on signless road because our starlight bodies will decay. My new ethereal life of casual play presumes ontology designed by Fate who nurtures Garden of Hesperides to prove existing objects are more real than pretty concepts conjured in my mind which float away on fragile wings of thought. Shocked by how Hope mocks mortal fleetingness as gift of nothingness humans enjoy, I write new mental program in dream code to give each human power of the rain that falls in steady streams of liquid masks explaining why we give each other names.
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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Tuesday, April 14, 2026
Fragile Wings Of Thought
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Orpheus sees God looking in at him from blazing eye of the sun that never answers even the most fervent prayer of believers on Earth.
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