This one will need a good bit of describing. For those of you who don't know, Michel de Nostradame (Nostradamus) was a French doctor/philosopher who has become very famous from the books he wrote during his time (1500's). He was a very intelligent man and is claimed to have been able to make predictions of things that would happen in the future.

He wrote a book called "The Prophecies" which contains 1000 verses of four lines each. They each try to explain what he sees when he experiences these premonitions and have been known to describe things like air travel, famine, war and even the appocalypse. He used a brass tripod with a bowl of water on it in order to see the future and it is said that he was also studying the forbidden books of the occult while doing this.

The last verse in this poem comes from the first verse in his book "The Prophecies" because I thought it would go well with my poem. It is written in French/Latin/Greek though so I think I should translate what it says here...

Sitting alone at night in secret study,
It is placed on the brass tripod;
A slight flame comes out of the emptiness
And makes successful that which should not be believed in vain.

If you're interested, there are loads of books about what he wrote and did during his life

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And I'm also not very happy with this. Sometimes I like it and sometimes not... I don't know???