Unfortunate; Necessary Poem by Wesley Dante

Transfixed upon a serpent
The Hand writhes motionless.
An infinite point on a finite surface,
An eager yet stubborn soul
Becomes lost in the rain.

Lost in the shadow
Of a world none too kind,
Lost in the shadow,
In the shadow of his mind.

He wanders forever, in search of lost truth,
He wanders today, he wanders for proof.
Proof that what lay, lay amongst his eyes,
Is an age old secret, the Shapeshifter's Guise.

And should he so find
What he is searching for,
Nothing will matter,
It wont matter anymore...

Nothing will change
And yet different it will be,
All will be claimed
By the Kingdom of the Sea.

And when that day comes,
(Believe me it shall)
Take pride in the knowledge,
That you do not know his name...