Wings Of Perpetual Respect © Surazeus 2026 09 09 When my first home transforms into the crow which flies on wings of perpetual respect across the blind sea of forgotten dreams that my ancestors left in empty rooms, I model each new family home I build to mimic stage of home my mother crafts. Lured by illusion of the Promised Land, that shimmers on horizon of false fate, I sail forever over restless seas where eyeless demons of primal desire lurk in the darkness of my hungry heart to block my progress toward lost paradise. As Lonely Jester with new Holy Book, which I preach to blind people building homes on river shores from sea to shining sea, I erase grand idols of long-dead gods to clear space for newcomers to lush vales who must rebuild homes their fathers designed. Each time the crow-winged ghost of my first home lands by the singing river of true faith, I gather words as flowers from lush fields to prove this world of bitter suffering remains more beautiful because of death that limits our time on this spinning globe. Trapped by nostalgia for the mundane past, that each person remembers differently as their own situation comedy, I search for secret treasures of your hearts that gleam with private memories of pain transformed to pleasure by bleak hour of song. Though angels deconstruct my childhood home to measure limits of my learning goals, defined by scattered puzzle of weird truth which I assemble with blueprint of myth, I build expanding palace to contain ghost of every ancestor in my genes. Because my temporary soul of light animates Zero Body with my name, I tell each stranger I randomly meet my name is Hyacinthus, new sun god born from terrific hills of Nevertime, but they ask if I have apples to sell. Reborn as Lucifer from Cave of Doom, I bear long-lost Lamp of Diogenes to prove my duties secure our world state against decay of arrogance and greed corrupting my childhood home with despair, therefore I burn it down and walk away.
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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Wednesday, September 9, 2026
Wings Of Perpetual Respect
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Orpheus watches his childhood home unburn from ashes to pristine condition the day when his grandfather finished screwing in the front door with a grin.
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