Upon macabre wings of night shall I fly
Across vast scenes of sorrow and grief
Ever have I been thought of as a plague
Yet should I wish change, like a spring leaf
And not be driven tot he starless sky
Torn apart by the voice that I indulged
Thought, an echo I will not deny
In a place which says I'm not of this age
For my eyes are deeper than the sky
And time himself has told me things I will not divulge
Memories, secrets of all that I hold
You cannot deny me what is mine
I am all knowing, none hide from a sage
A black rose, immortal, and a sign
Now you know me, my paradox told
YOU ARE READING
Iridium Columns
PoetryMy first book of poetry, combining some that I wrote ages ago and some that I am writing now. If we know where we've been, we know where we're going. It's a journey through time.
