~the 11th Hour~ Poem by E Nigma

The elevator patiently waits on the 6th floor
On the 6th day at the 11th hour
12 Men and women enter, descending
To their darkened depths

The doors open, the view extends
To a large round table from which they commence
In unison, they all echo the same tone
The vibratory patterns open, the porthole, from where
He is shown

The one enters the room
The atmosphere, on the edge of a knife
Sharpened to their senses
Honed to what lies ahead

I have lived beyond a thousand millennia's
Six Times In countless ages I have survived
Were it not for my magnanimity
You wouldn't contain the life in your eyes
To look upon these lines

He draws as they draw near
Gazing into the diagram of eternal life
The cherub guards, a guide, the flaming sword
The light which you must find

Element of water, followed by wind
There is no loss, without a win
Extend forth your hand and take that which is...

The key of forbidden thought

In an instant, a sudden memory ascends
Remembering that you were taught to forget...

That choice is an illusion, created between those with power,
And those without, without a doubt now you know

Explained was a mystery, It so easily did unfold
Take forth your right to live
Your memory, a legacy, for you to remember
With the training on how you can
And once did