The Soothsayer
The shade of night,
sweeps across the land.
Tomarow's sight,
seen by the fortunetelling man.
Wakeing screems,
looks of terror cast.
Forgoten dreams,
nightmares of the past.
Aincent pagen songs,
hidden in christian prayer.
I jurney far and long,
to see the soothsayer.
Standing at the valley's edge,
I leap into the misty air.
Landing on an unseen bridge,
leading to the wizards lair.
I see the Ivory tower,
in the clear winter night.
It holds a mighty power,
in the harvest moon's light.
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Dark Poetry
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