We’ve been looking for Atlantis
Through the icy crystal gardens
Living just a level lower
Than the Matrons and their Lady.
High atop their mountain palace
Sitting sky-clad and unguilted,
They hold onto former treasures
And their gold-encrusted banners.
Overwhelmingly influenced,
We are moving in their castle
Shackled to our lazy daydreams
And our claims to higher standing,
Locked behind the moonrise gateway
Till we stop this naked treason
And the follied understanding
Of our playings’ future purpose
Within evolution’s circle.
As they look upon our errors
Fully comprehending judgement,
They keep showing us their rulings.
And they call it karmic fairness
Laughing at the foolish crosses
Resurrected to defile them
And the truth of pure existence.
But she won’t disclose agendas
Through the tantalising concepts
Of our peasant-pulling searches
For the mortal rites of passage.
We are over-stepping boundaries
Feeding poison to the seedlings.
Revolution-calling masters
Followed blindly and uplifted
By the simple, stupid soldiers
Handed down the holy gallows,
Setting fire to her mountain,
Twisting law from made-up glories,
As she runs to save her daughters
In the mist enclosed enchantment
Closing down the cosmic doorway
Taking with her all the answers.
