Quick Ruin Of Our Age © Surazeus 2026 08 16 When death attempts to realign the clock through subtle syncopation of lamplight, I sell useless treasures of crumbled hope that drift in cold wind with unfolded sheep while children wander beyond the frontier to prove paradise remains when time cracks. I build booth in swamp of reluctant prayer to swim at ease in waters of despair which proves soul of the world still animates mortal humans striving against regret to become one spirit with the Great Being who walks invisible in singing fields. Through glory of the Great Awakening I seek to comprehend vast Mind of God that teems thick with billions of self-named souls who join discourse of blind philosophers to analyze true nature of the self when I ascend on winding stairs of hope. Invisible to eyes of mortal gods who meet every month in the time-locked church, I talk about our pilgrimage to Hell in grand tradition of fake heritage that drives our bodies to wear naked clothes discarded by the jester king of faith. Eroded by quick ruin of our age, that transforms fair things of our tearful pride to bleak consumption of hot desert sand, our world view readjusts its paradigm from ziggurat to castle to starship through which I will investigate the world. I search through every city left on Earth to find original framework of fate since ancient temples are now empty tombs beside the sacred river that still flows long after our ancestors turn to dust so we admire strange grandeur of decay. Brave idols, ruined by harsh hand of time, call out my name with ache of divine minds each time I drive past library of ghosts on my way to work in the marble bank where I map beauty of this world in tales that hide where saints and martyrs party wild. Caress porphyry heart of robot god to wake his passion with systemic code since we inscribe our secret fantasies on marble plates erected along walls which may reveal clandestine parables that always fool the poor to strive for wealth.
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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Sunday, August 16, 2026
Quick Ruin Of Our Age
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Orpheus excavates quick ruin of our age to survey psychic landscape of our global mythology which glorifies the robot clone of King Midas the thief.
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