Roadless Anywhere Of Why © Surazeus 2026 11 10 Approaching crossroads of one thousand worlds, I search for truths concealed on blatant lies till I see faces that mirror my face with ideal shape of God in glowing cloud so I invent new language for my soul to sing about long journey of my heart. Alone in silence of the everywhere that vibrates from core of the jagged hill, I sing with wordless hum of timeless wind that transforms into trees who hear my voice so they call me with name of river waves that wakes me from strange dream of ardent hope. I find my voice in bottom of the sea then give my voice to desert waste of sand while I tread roadless anywhere of why with grace of shadows beamed from faceless clouds that wander free among tall trees of fruit till I find cave of silence in my heart. Awake in silver exactness of fate, with no preconceptions of who I am, unmisted by brave love of mountain peaks, I meditate on strangeness of my Self who knows true nature of my secret being though I am shapeless gloom of midnight thought. I search depths of the sea for my blank mind so I can place it back among the stars that fall as rain to fill my trembling hands with mute completeness of my urgent angst when I drown in bright pool of everything and rise reborn as ancient crone of faith. Unburdened by despair of fallen pride, I lounge by river of still-flowing light to watch the dead come down from clouds to drink till my heart shimmers empty of blind rage that leaves me floating on moon-silver air without black raven wings of bitterness. Time unspools threads of mountains into trees that transform into humans with wolf eyes who run through shadows of demonic woods to build stone walls on hilltop of concern where I keep watch in tower of respect till I become vast web of humming stars. I wander roadless anywhere of why to understand the vastness of our globe, forever forward toward the setting sun by racing chariot on the windy plain till I soar high on silver wings of joy and fly airplane among bright godless clouds.
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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Tuesday, November 10, 2026
Roadless Anywhere Of Why
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Orpheus learns how to fly the airplane from old bearded Icarus who takes photographs of jagged mountain peaks of the Alps where our ancestors linger in wind.
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