'Tis time our spirits awoke
Drawing deep of the smoke
The Trilogy to invoke
And in magick we cloak

Our lives to create
Weighing the odds to evaluate
The beauty within shall accentuate
And the Wyrd will substantiate

Our Souls we torment
For some - sheer bewilderment
Fearing abandonment
From those incongruent

As We lust
For the robust
Yet totally distrust
Our own instinct to adjust

Seeping as the poison
Reaping our mortal sin
Deposits of extreme toxin
Wastes in rivers of resin

Some of us psychic
Some empathic
All have the magick
To lead the rhetoric

To find it all funny
In our pockets – no money
Awaiting the sunny
Enlightenment of ceremony

Giving to receive the pleasure
Receiving to give the treasure
Overcome our oppressor
By becoming the aggressor

We delight in the tease
Of dangling the keys
For whom do we appease?
But the seven of seas

Pious?
Hah - maybe facetious
While writing the thesis
Of the defeatist

We learn in reincarnation
Our errors are a hallucination
Within the illumination
Of life’s origination