The Sage And The Page Poem by Thompson Emate

The visions of the young lad are the evil of the night,
Something is fighting hard to cloak his light,
It's a wave of darkness,
His tutor is a witness.

A symphony heralds the penetrating gloom,
The tutor is awake in his room,
He doesn't understand why he's the mirror,
It's a recurring episode that flows like a river.

One is chosen to see,
The other is plagued by a turbulent sea,
One is the sage,
The other is the page.

The tendrils of the night are out of the chamber,
They come for souls even when not in slumber,
They're the outsiders,
Coming for the insiders.