Tear filled ink pot satisfies the poet’s quill
Flooding the scroll, reaching for reasoning
Searching for tomorrow’s love?
The mage enters and dust rolls from underfoot
Settling onto the tear etched scroll.
Coming into view the combined
Dust and tears predicting the future
The poet rolls the scroll up quickly
Nothing good comes of this
Opening doors of false discernment
The mage’s dust corrupts
© 2012 Michael Yost 1/10
Michael's Lair 