Ab Origine Poem by Arik Fletcher
Ab Origine
Five turrets guard my outer wall,
Defining that which makes me whole,
Illusion, Love, Faith, Truth, and Self,
The guardians that guide my soul,
An open palm to shield and wave,
Presenting me to foe and friend,
A hand of shadows from the void,
That speaks these verses that I send,
The pentagram encased within,
My mark of anonymity,
The emblem of my chosen name,
A symbol of my destiny.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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8/24/2026 2:46:16 AM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
