Judas' silver grails, tail and head, the tosses,
The Trait or else Last Supper stamps
Waxed lyrical and sealed by inky lamps.
Some might call it fanciful Atlantis,
If so I wish those pot luck preying mantis,
But I call it truth, proxied circumstance,
The margin Babel, more than error chance.
The scholars held a conscious council once
To keep the peace, that none appear the dunce,
The Arabs got to write to west from east,
The Chinese got to write south bound, not least,
The English got to write to east from west,
So my tri-verse tri-via logs now attest.
O, noughts, speech bubbles float up from sea bed,
Atlantis's writing north bound, cross hair lead.
