Always Voyage To Cythera © Surazeus 2026 11 08 I wish I could find solace in how waves extract sharp thorn of sorrow from my heart yet leaves me bleeding on beach of despair so I wonder what words mean anymore as I spiral in vast abyss of stars what whisper thoughts of time-expanding hope. Grass consumes frail bodies of dead ghosts whose hands engrave their names on temple walls where vultures feast on the sacrificed god since Destiny is shaper of the Will through choices we express in devious words that trap us tangled in our fantasies. Complex creed of our socialized beliefs are bright illusions of our blinded eyes that guide our steps along the rocky shores of furious islands in fabulous seas where shipwrecked refugees build world empire on tale of the girl who steals fruit from snakes. Stuck as demon in the windowless realm of my imagination without walls, I wear gold mask of the sacrificed god to play his role in pageant of our state till snow-capped volcano explodes in flames that unravel secrets of dreamless brains. Thus I always voyage to Cythera where Sirens dance in sudden flash of rain so I can shelter in the temple hall since glass typewriter of Orpheus waits for me to chronicle current events through complex account of our search for truth. Across infinitude of stable air I dare explore realm of false parables with stubborn honesty woven from pain till I know myself as frail human being whose heart reflects in mirror of my eyes concept of God people project at me. White blood on tearless stones of honesty reveals source of torrential attitude that fuels my journey to the Promised Land where I rebuild grand temple of the god whose name is lost from books of history except as shadow on the grass at dawn. Groomed mightier than death from ecstasy, my heart is canonized by myth of love when I become the heavenless undone by grim assertion death requires I prove, so I float nameless in slow surging tide till wings of Icarus grow from my heart.
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, November 8, 2026
Always Voyage To Cythera
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Orpheus searches island of Cythera for bones of the greatest poet who ever lived in history of the Earth though she spent her entire live singing as she tended garden of herbs.
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