Echo of Atlantis

Do you remember the moon-lit,

Ivory gardens we once walked,

The secret realms we fashioned,

Like gods long forgotten ?

Do you remember the scented,

Star-pinioned night, that was ours alone,

And the iris-pouring moon,

That whispered words arcane ?

We are but spectres in this haggard and marble realm

Fading shapes in the moon's uncertain light

We are but whispers in the babel of voices,

The last echoes of a long-dead world