Empty Room Of Everywhere © Surazeus 2026 06 26 Darkness enters hollow room of my heart so I eat sorrow of the eyeless moon when she undresses mirror of her mind to bear witness with melancholy faith in lonesome laughter of new sentiment we share as photo of romantic fear. No tragic ghost of famished innocence, I enter empty room of everywhere through clacking aperture of sacrifice with lovesick passion for the happy moon who bleeds tears of the gentle masochist, disappeared by shadows of broken doors. Electric arms of writhing platitudes expose bitter resemblance of the spy who translates arrogant language of stones which triggers frantic dance of stoic faith by sharing love with unprepared respect to wake enormous beast inside my heart. Contained by tragic memory my heart molds, my spirit slithers in contemptuous waves with blessed mimicry of angry saints who howl with shame in sermons of despair that we should take what we desire the most which proves our right to dwell in fractal eggs. Fooled by illustrious vision of rich joy extracting laughter from wild twirl of fate, I stand behind the empty church and count skeletons of glass that emerge from mud as holy warriors of the noble cause who sail across the sea of wordless storms. Determined to escape fake paradise, I pull ghosts of children from graves of faith, tangled in roots of trees that transform blood of our bodies to apples angels eat in bid to flush depression from the brain pulsing with lust to generate new life. Emergent specialist, trained to construct idols of gods from bones of terrorists, I consider weird meaning of true love sold in plastic packages at the store where devils trick naive nurses with glam of the wealthy lifestyle in palace cage. Attempting to disguise my wounded heart with mask of fortitude, designed by pain more searing than rain on sun-hot asphalt, I run across the thistle-bristling plain with diligent focus on turning fault to virtue based on proverbs of the chart.
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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Friday, June 26, 2026
Empty Room Of Everywhere
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Orpheus searches for Minerva all over the rugged hills of Scotland till he finds her by the sparkling pool in the fairy glen chatting with three blind angels.
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