deepundergroundpoetry.com
Onyx Eyes
Creatures whine
under sombre intolerance
pallid and dark at the same time
you know
she aint one of us
blood bottled fine wine
is a stolen gift out of our populous
all clocks now chime
its time
for mass exodus.
She steps from the portal
demons hold her long cape
encrusted in immortal
medievil and keyhole shaped
celo's groan a deep mourning
for all will not escape
her polished onyx eyes
capture your aura
and then its all over
in the early hours that
became too late .
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Published 28th Dec 2009
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