Invictus

On the loins of the fever’s deliriums
I crossed the hells of opium
Without my eyes I can see beyond all the stars
I’m the writer of the Emerald Table
Pythia at the Delphic Oracle
I’m a Babylon whore
I see the ancient races, the immigrants of Atlantis and Lemuria,
the billions of lives that have preceded me
I’m an Isis priest, a slave in Egypt
Tarpeya crushed, pupil of Socrates
I parade with the imperial legions
The Aeneas descendant
I take a billion forms, I know all the lives
I feel the entire universe’s knowledge
But where does the divine grace hide?
Where are the wasted prayers thrown into despair?
I exist in all beings and all beings exist in me
I feel myself in communion with the earth
But god isn’t in me