Down I sit with pen in hand
Bent on verse to darken land.
But even darkness has left my soul.

Only light burns within
Strange for one from sin.
It seems darkness has left my soul.

No inspiration crosses the mind
But a tale strange, and of hidden kind.
And the darkness turns to light.

From darkness trode a youth not fair
To edge of crevis. No bridge, no stair.
And in it's depth dwelt emptiness.

Lured by glow, seering bright.
Across the pit at edge of sight.
And it was the Light of Ages.

Across the pit light was sent
And the boy was content
To bask in the light he had not known.

But why sit here
When light so near
Could warm him for all his days?

Can a Boy learn to stand
And become a Man
With no hope near his heart?

Could the Light withstand
Possession of Man?
So the boy sat down to die.

And Death reared His mighty head
To devour the boy as he fled.
And who knows where the Dark Poet has gone?

 /)ark Poet
  [AssaulT] '93
