People think I helped with the bomb, but I said no. I watched my people die, and I wanted no more. I fled from my homeland, my brilliance well known. To America I went and made a new home. I continued to theorize, postulate, and investigate The hidden things of time and space To further advance the human race.

Three to start, a place to lay, more temporary than permanent. Three to follow, which weighs more, a group of feathers or bricks of the same value. Put together and you have a soft ball, picked by hand until a gin came along to spare fingers.

Fierce warrior of time, spinning tales anew, Grooves of battle scars, songs of strength so true. Round and black, it conquers sound's endless night, An epic of sound, forged in circular might.

Mischief and mystery wrapped in my feathers, A harbinger of doom in shadows and weather. My presence speaks in legends and lore, A teller of fate and secrets - nevermore.

I reach for the sky with a needle of stone, Born from a base, yet I stand all alone. Not quite a tower, but aiming up higher, A peak with a purpose, slim, sharp, and dire. Churches and castles wear me with pride - What am I called when I upwardly rise?