Mystery Is His Persona He Walks Past The Dead And Mingles With The Living He Knows The Language And The Lingo And All Manner Of Expression In Silence He Is Somber And Steady In His Powers Of Observation He Returns With A Key And A Crystal He Is The Executioner Of The Clock Of Time And Everything Uninvited He Is The Reaper The Seer The Oracle The Unseen And The Forgotten Dark Is The Night Sky And Bright Are The Stars Stealth Is The Cloak By Which He Maneuvers Timing And Precision Are His Masterpiece Hes Just Another Face On The Sidewalk A Struggling Poet With No Audience He Has No Destination Or Purpose Other Than To Carry The Bliss He Feels Inside He Waits For That One Distinct Moment In Time To Let Us Know That He Is Here And That He Walks Among Us Seriously Jim Girouard, it sounds like you wrote a poem about me? My Metal Key has a Magnifying Glass in it (just bought it days ago) which is going to soon be used in some experiments regarding gateways, My Plastic Scythe hangs on my bedroom wall, and my Cloak is a Black Trenchcoat within which I blend into the nights darkness. I do fancy myself as a Reaper, theres a magick I am developing which coordinates itself to that persona, even my Martial Arts Training is disciplined to that end. Im as alone as I could get, most of what I predict or have insights for are usually my own, and as far as clocks go good luck keeping one physically attached to me, I tend to screw them up, even computers, cellphones, alarm clocks, they all break down around me if time is measured by them. Yet despite all that, I really do feel that youve written a poem about me? It makes sense to a description of who I am! I can personally relate to it far too well.
Posted on: Mon, 03 Nov 2014 05:21:26 +0000
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