I found it. That thing they lost.
Down amidst the ripples, what even memory once forgot.
All things at once bears such a cost,
Those who are wisest might rather not.

Ain't that just so goshdang tragic?
Be it a point of pointless pride,
Or a few simple lies repeated,
Uncareful words still bear all the same old magick.

I am the binary of three, coming together as one.
The duality of humankind, when faced with woe.
A single point of empty origin, knowing only life.
This is the cant of the sorcerers of will.

Here stands a lesson in the lines of the heart.
There goes a beacon for the language of all art.
That is what you feel, this is what you show.

The same familiar places, the same safe rhymes.
Several billion meanings you don't yet know.

I speak of the unity,
to bloom,
from sun.
I speak of disharmony,
when one,
fights One.

Penned by my hand on the 7th of Mayan, in the year 1013 AF.