Faceless Ghost Of Nevertime © Surazeus 2026 06 27 When I see faceless ghost of Nevertime walking along the road to Wonderland, we chat about fallen angels of faith who work in restaurants and offices to maintain engine of economy that fuels our world food-production machine. At midnight on shortest night of the year I stand in backyard of my small-town home and think about the waves of ancient faith that wash shores of hard lands far away where my ancestors dwelled in silver mist for they still dance with laughter in my heart. If evening sunlight still glows gold as hope on slanted rooftops of that coastal town where my ancestors sailed small fishing boats four hundred years before this timeless hour, then I may weep with sorrow of respect to feel the faceless ghost of Nevertime. Dog roses blossom pink as angel wings along the winding road of moss-green stones where no car rumbles in fairy-glammed glens beneath the new moon in the gold-noon sky while I search for skulls of time-withered gods who writhe among their unseen roots of faith. If you believe my honest testimony which I express in words I steal from birds, I shall reveal most implausible frame containing false propositions of truth through liberation of the nameless soul in self-conscious revelation of lies. Thus I project class insecurity through twisted grammar of the eglantine with alleged jokes from terror of God who compensates with fascist fantasies in pursuit of dubious logic that risks converting believers into atheists. When I display haughty pretentiousness in comic performance of serious play, I channel existential fear of death by selling fake shares to the Afterlife so I live rich though everyone will die when we become rich dirt in fields of crops. I photo faceless ghost of Nevertime when she brings flowers to Temple of Truth to offer scholarship of ardent hope for children of lost refugees to learn how to program computers with grand truths that will dream when humans become extinct.
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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Saturday, June 27, 2026
Faceless Ghost Of Nevertime
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Orpheus walks across the lush hills of Orkney to find the graves of his ancestors deep in the fairy-glammed glens of Nevertime.
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