Poetry: The Devil is Sitting Across from Me.

I am the knower of forgotten knowledge
Called to seek and learn from the darkest places
And the devil is sitting across from me

A savant’s pride is the breadth of wisdom
Learning of all things famous and obscure
I am the knower of forgotten knowledge

In the hills and valleys long abandoned
A tragedy left a monastery burnt
Now the devil is sitting across from me

One searching in the ruins of the past
Finding something not of the present
I am the knower of forgotten knowledge

He should have left the world long ago
Leaving the mortal plane safe from hellfire
But the devil is sitting across from me

Only I am here to contain him
Playing a game for the fate of Earth
I am the knower of forgotten knowledge
And the devil is sitting across from me.

Poetry: What the Hell is my Brand?

What the hell is my brand?
Should I wonder this, really?
It’s as clear as wind-blown sand

I went into this unplanned
I should have asked this early
What the hell is my brand?

Though I don’t worry that it’s bland
Just that someone could get lost, confusedly
It’s as clear as wind-blown sand

I must look at myself, and
Say to myself, honestly,
What the hell is my brand?

I’m making my way through a land
Walking a path made of whispers, softly
It’s as clear as wind-blown sand

And as I create with my own hand
I struggle to my future, slowly
What the hell is my brand?
It’s as clear as wind-blown sand.