The Silent Sword - Unwritten

From the core and the boundary that forbids,
Ink soaks the sky with waves of a tide.
The Guide who walks among wisp and wind,
Wished to tell a story before he died.

Creeping black flows into creeks and rivers.
To swim in them would be to learn and drown
In eternal silence of freezing mirrors,
Where warmth and light are never found.

The letters spread across the pale, pink sky,
Black paints on the colors of existence.
A dome and a pillar crumble beneath lies,
Rippling black water soon rips his vision.

Alas.

The note was not read from above their heads,
The sun had washed it with a molten gold.
Forever it burns from the fire it fed,
So the man's love for her shall never unfold.

The Silent Sword

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/unwritten-16/