Winged Lure

In the depths of the abstruse pages A quill transcribes fathomless thought Feathered ideas guilelessly tethered to Existence with a black ink onslaught The same plume that once lifted its own maker To heights undreamed of on the ground Disembogues reflections of speculations On white pages that are now confound A blank slate now full of words From those who have come before leaves us to cipher fact from fiction At the confluence of winged lure