Sonnett by red_minta

On seat of wood, still sits the laboradite Who daily tells a different tale as spun And glows anew when placed within the light And opens up its darkest layers to sun Smooth laboradite, force forged in darkest earth I touch your skin, your gentle layers shine I wonder at the eons since your birth I listen to your age old tales of time I too, like thee was made in darkest place And tell my tales at times when I am lit My span moves on at faster-moving pace One day will end and this body will be quit When gone are all those things that make up me Will earth forge I to shine as soft as thee?