Mark Norton Poet Narrative

The Winds of Fate

I wait as midnight steals by,
          Wait for signs of night’s intent,
          But did I behold the winds of fate 
          Where the essence of our judgment lays

          Too long I ponder accepted thought 
          Here in the value of our own wisdom,
          When forgotten seem the thoughts and deeds 
          In a place where judgment ends  
          
          Noble is mans lost intent 
          Nobler then nights design;
          But somewhere waits the winds of fate 
          Here where judgment lays            

                                  By m.norton

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