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?

Sometimes I protect you, other times I fascinate. A shield as flimsy as cardboard. At a party or when you graduate, I sit with you, whether you're Abe Lincoln or Harrison Ford.

I am a beast of years long past and I have heads of three, I am no dog for I'm a cat, at least one part of me, The other two are far less seen Since other forms have shown on screen And with these clues, I beg of you, to guess what I may be.