black

like birds in gray skies

black like
the horizon when it dies

black like
flies weaving through the night
in search of light
shown down from
our artificial heaven

black like
a sea of forgotten things
buried beneath sickening
mounds of fresh filth
dredged from our
materialistic dreams

black like
my mother's eye
in the middle

like my father's lies
far from white
like the corners of my room
where I'd contemplate my doom
and wish for things
I shouldn't

black

like the soul at it's lowest
worn down to Tartarus
with all the little
demons that make a life
worth killing
and moreover
make such a thing fulfilling

black thoughts
sown by black deeds
give rise to evil things

evil breeds in
black ravines
where light's not
shown to these
forgotten
lonely
dead
dreaming things

deceased because you ceased to shine