But For a Talk With Critias

Imagine a hoary and hide-bound tome, A translation of an ancient Greek text. Sift 'mongst the lines, and through the details comb, Referenced there find what has so men perplexed, Hand-me-down quotes of a third hand account From Egypt's priests scrolls...of a country hexed. The thinnest hints 'bout a volcanic mount... Tales of a people who challenge gods could... A city ringed by harbors, three in count. Wonders, grandeur, and all that was deemed good, Storied in culture and philosophy, Destroyed by a cataclysm not withstood. True the story or an artifice be? Platonic ramble? Neptunian get? This utopia which has named a sea... Believe? I want to, but convinced? Not yet. The legend of Cleito's ten sons stays strong... The world reminds us lest we try t'forget. If true, it sings th;words of man's oldest song. Fantasy? Real? Atlantis of dreams... Canst thou ever be found? Terzanelle (with a Questionku chaser)