it is addressed thusly:
A vision.
it reads:
We are waiting for the world after
"Do not deceive yourselves," he said
To proclaim it yet, lips are astir --
This secret, secret of the dead.
We cannot make it come to us
Hoping for a door in an old room
A closet - in a world like a womb
But desire it still we must;

Once awoken, the truth like sight
Sharpens the lines - just as spoken
In his cave, man knows Plato was right
But the light comes scattered, broken
Perhaps there is no way from this maze
But to prevent it from driving us mad
And of those who for a moment had
Glimpsed the bright morning 'mid the haze?

The eternity written in the heart of man
Perhaps a specific set of letters
And those who, in this haze still can
Tell us - we would call our betters.
Waiting on every word, they come
To hear weird tales from the outside
But he in simplicity then replied:
"Rejoice, for your God is one."

The coming wolf amid the sheep
His time is short, and his sport
The slope of it is very steep
The shepherd's knife bears retort;
"The world of tomorrow today"
But the kingdom was proclaimed
Ages before - his smile is strained
Who makes the world his way?

Magic, in the minds of mankind
To change the basic rules of things
The technique is not unrefined
If not unreal in the promises it brings
The walking man wishes to fly
Wishes a child a giant to be
I can be you, and you can be me
And together we can never die.

But Socrates sees them standing
In a dark cave no less, and how
Do they not see - he is demanding
But a demand they do not allow;
To warn them his lips are astir
But first to them it must occur
That they cannot make it come anyhow --
We are waiting for the world after.

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