Mountain Of Divine Grace © Surazeus 2026 09 21 Reluctant to descend on signless road to misty underworld of faceless ghosts who whisper stories of their suffering, I linger at the twisted iron gate, and pluck at strings on broken lyre of truth while memorizing scenes of their disgrace. Purged by obsessive anguish of despair that writhes from wounded hearts of mortal souls, killed in ten thousand wars of thought control, I wander blithely down the signless road to cavern of illusions stuffed with souls who beg me to record their bitter lives. Heart numb from endless scream of suffering, I stare mute at their twisted souls of rage and try to understand their wordless howls, but they just blast past me as ocean wind that pierces to my bones with blades of ice, so I shiver with horror at bleak death. Bones stretched too rubber-taut in agony at unjust death of body-searing pain that billions of mortal humans endure, I swell into enormous cloud of rage that flashes with memories of harsh death till I condense to iron core of Earth. Up steep obstructing slope of bitterness, I struggle to assert each rage-weighed step of heavy horror oppressing my heart against blast of grim angelic contempt to climb massive mountain of divine grace in futile search for cleansing clemency. Alone without witty word-smith as guide, who could steer my faltering steps of fear safe through rage-tangled limbs of screaming trees, I stumble blindly toward the Promised Land that gleams too faintly in Tower of Hope for me to see its Flame of Liberty. Exhausted from my ten-million-year quest to seek salvation on the mountain top, I randomly arrive at peak of truth where I watch empires of men rise and fall countless centuries of wars to play God, laughing as I float up in empty sky. Bouncing against planets in timeless void, I flail wildly in erratic progress as I careen up nine celestial spheres to tumble awkwardly in Paradise where no Beatrice scolds me for my vice, so I sit by Tree of Knowledge and eat.
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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Monday, September 21, 2026
Mountain Of Divine Grace
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Orpheus finds Sariel under Tree of Knowledge so he gives him lyre of Mercury and teaches him how to play tunes while improvising spells that conjure visions of truth.
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