When we are born in the world as a young child, We see the world with eyes unclouded and wild. Every tear and moment of laughter, a source of awe, Yet Kronos has come to us with his sceptre and law. Dual lord of primal chaos and order, with chains bound, The fear of Bacchus unbound, causes within a wound. The small Liknites, child of spirit, the free and wild, With his eyes, he sees the fragile flower and smiled. Now Kronos has come, the Lord of the empty book shelf, He who is in great fear of the great spirit of the pure Self. Yet unbeknownst to him, the masters of ecstasy and dance, The disciplined, free Korybantes, give this child a chance. So all of us once more with wild unclouded eyes can see, Untied from the illusory shadows, so we are once more free. The world so fragile and eternal, again a place of wonder. The eyes of the soul, striking through the fog like thunder.
