Alone Tree Of Fate © Surazeus 2026 08 22 No black rain is falling on this bright day while I walk to the Alone Tree of fate so I can translate prophecies of change sung by the hissing wind of emptiness that batters melancholy homes of hope where people eat at the table of faith. Though spiders in the garden of lost souls search for my heart in shadow of the clock, the shepherd who finds body of his wife decayed in bushes by the gushing stream breaks the silence of God with wordless curse that transforms his bones into twisted steel. When he wanders in the pasture with cows, the shepherd who programs computer games hears crystal angels singing in tall trees, so he gathers trash of their broken wings in plastic bags he piles beside the road till dust of long-dead stars encrust his eyes. Sharp shots of guns echo in autumn woods where angels run in trees of bloody bones so ravens shriek from fragments of their mouths in wild laments of shattered innocence with prayers to clouds inhabited by gods who laugh with joy at causing men to fight. Trapped in the solitary hour of death, the shepherd with gun of religious pride considers wetness of tall hungry grass when Bacchus dances on his empty grave with sober clarity of evening hymns that eyeless devils sing with pious faith. He kneels and touches blueness of the stream with anguish at the desolate secrecy preserved in neatness of the garden path where toads of panic meditate all night against dire quietness of his cold breath so he clamps ears against rustle of leaves. Bright destitution of his childhood days returns with brittle innocence of love at that dark hour when eyes of seers expand with muffled clang of bells in empty church where angels wear masks of children we name before they sink in muck of holy war. Trapped in their mournful pilgrimage to Hell, the people of the nation blessed by God lie down together on the shattered plain and stare at nothingness of glowing screens that flash elusive visions of world peace till we become the gods we idolize.
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, August 22, 2026
Alone Tree Of Fate
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Orpheus finds George Trakl by the thorny bush where he found his pregnant wife after invading soldiers shot her as she was gathering apples and eggs.
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