Trismagestus.

Tides shifting, mental
planes drifting,
Sailing the tides of
mind...

Unwinding lines transmit
the signs blistering
radiant Divine,
It begs the question in
endless succession, can
the psychonaught rewind?

Three times over, three
times more,
Concentration in every
pore,
Alas, uncertainty, every
changing certainty,
Cracking pillars to bring
this temple down...

Thrice they say, up has
become down,
Give way to uncertainty,
banish all sanity,
Don't you want to wear the
crown?
-END-
(C) D.C. Chapman 5/21/2011