Alchemisland

Barring time travel’s starry unveilment, or wormhole displacement

We’ll never know how Mithras was worshipped below this pavement

At Walbrook.

This won’t brook our efforts to decode the frescoes in wall nooks,

Brooks where flowed unctuously the lumbering blood of a missed Christ,

More questions these deceptive inscriptions provide,

Yet we continue trying to tease out the rites.