To be conscious of your life means you know that you are human, which means you know you are alive, that you feel, that you will love, that you will hate, hurt, laugh, mourn, prosper, lavish, lounge, labor, stress, smile, dance, and inevitably die. Such is the awakening of a mind when it realizes the horror of never being young forever, and being in a river that one was not asked to be put in, which flows towards an abyss you have no say in. This is a most frightening concept. “rogue” is a book of poetry about the loss of faith in God, and the emersion of his predecessor, Death, in the eyes of author Patrick Bairamian. Over the course of this compilation of poetry, the reader is taken to a reality that most would likely avoid in their lifetime. None of us ask to be reminded that we die, but when Death becomes the shadow that enshrouds the four walls of your mind, its presence becomes an entity that compels the mind to take two paths: to face your reality, or escape into limbo. The poetry in this book is about the first path taken.