Untitled

Pleasant as it seems, it roar the sound of ghost
  it was deep in the night, there it began 
 it start as a hissing and then toward right
 pleasant as it speak i bowed to thee
 what fate of man shall i conceived, but it replied 
 As master of my words i command it fate 
 o, please of doubt i refrain 
but forth what shall it gains of thee, without thy touch
 o might of thee
Copyright © | Year Posted 2009

Poem

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