deepundergroundpoetry.com
Black
I am what swirls inside the void
The thing that creeps in corners
I am all colors and none at all
I am there when all hope dies
Wearing shadows like tatters
Not caring what matters
I am devoid of all light
The storm clouds at night
Blackness running like blood
The vile little vermin in the mud
I am the mewling in shadows
The death of loved ones
The gothic wrought iron gates
At the cemetery steps
I am the stinking sticking tar
That you tread on daily
I am the midnightmare thoughts
Of deepest cloying despair
I am the broken sooted glass
That slices the tender skin
I am the ruin of broken families
I am the beatings in drunken
Rages, the hostility
I am blackness incarnate
Entered in the If Colors Could Speak comp
The thing that creeps in corners
I am all colors and none at all
I am there when all hope dies
Wearing shadows like tatters
Not caring what matters
I am devoid of all light
The storm clouds at night
Blackness running like blood
The vile little vermin in the mud
I am the mewling in shadows
The death of loved ones
The gothic wrought iron gates
At the cemetery steps
I am the stinking sticking tar
That you tread on daily
I am the midnightmare thoughts
Of deepest cloying despair
I am the broken sooted glass
That slices the tender skin
I am the ruin of broken families
I am the beatings in drunken
Rages, the hostility
I am blackness incarnate
Entered in the If Colors Could Speak comp
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