Aletheia

One yearning, one infancy
Trembling softly from the edges to the core
We emerge from a grave of churning seas
Knowing nothing of the world that came before

Aletheia
From birth, we are blinded
It's real; it's raw
The dream is to find it...

Aeries, aeidō, aeidō
(For the air, I sing, I sing,)
Aphanē o psūkhē, para ego
(For the unseen spirit beyond myself,)
Eirene zēto
(For the pursuit of harmony,)
Anemos antiphone
(For the wind sounding in answer,)
Ambrotos isoraphē
(For immortal nourishment.)

Life beckons the soul again
From the mountains
From the rivers to the shore
But I can't release this memory -
Of a phantom, of a wish - or something more?