Here we be, trapped in a setting Atlantis,
Of metal, wood, fire, and sand.
No stone left untrod.
Here we be, shaken in a sinful, weighted tumbler.
Struck by Hate’s embittered hand.
Broken at his nod.
Here we be, ravaged by our own bright blindness,
Cursed by our deafening band.
By self-made sod.
Here we be, freed from life’s fatal roulette,
Saved by his Compassion-Hand,
Mended at his nod.