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Fake crumbling granite glares downward at me
from wizened stone; he must surely know
I’ve watched him shed his grey; wings free
He’s left his post, while I have watched him go.
I cannot sleep, I dream of gliding stone
that hunts my soul, for I have seen
His sentience, and my knowledge he would own,
control, destroy; hence I must not be seen!
I desire the knowledge of how he lives and flies,
To greet the gargoyle greatness face to face
I can’t escape the power of opened eyes,
I cannot hide. I await him at this place.
But now I know the truth of darkened light,
For I’ve been found; by day I serve the night.
J. Abram Barneck.
Copyright © 2005 by Rhyous, Inc. All rights reserved.
Revised: 3 Mar 2005 11:06:37 -0600.