When I Was in Atlantis

When I was in Atlantis, We walked not on ground, but upon fields of light. The air itself knew our names — And the stars bent low to whisper secrets. We spoke in silence, Words unneeded between hearts that saw all. Clairvoyance was breath, Clairsentience our compass, And the soul — a library open wide. Crystals sang in our temples, Drawing energy from the eternal pulse. We lit cities with intention, Moved mountains with dreams, And healed the wounded with the truth of our thoughts. Children came knowing the galaxies. Elders sat with star maps etched in their veins. Time was not a ruler, But a dance — And we moved with it, in rhythm, Never fearing age or end. I remember the halls of sapphire and gold, Where silence roared with wisdom. Machines bowed to willpower, And portals opened to worlds beyond this solar flame. We traveled by mind — To Andromeda, to Sirius, To places no Earth tongue dares name. We were creators, not consumers, Guardians of balance, not lords of war. But hubris crept in — A shadow at the edge of all light. The crystal towers cracked, Not from weakness, but from forgetting. And the sea… the sea remembered. It swallowed us — not as punishment, But as a closing page, So that we might return again, In flesh and pain, To reclaim the wisdom we once held in our hands. Now I walk in this world, With whispers of then behind my eyes. And when I dream, I dream in blue and gold — In symbols that hum with ancient memory. Atlantis was not a myth. It was a mirror. And we… we are its echo, Returning, reawakening, One soul at a time.