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Apr 2020
Let the blood flow
Through these halls
Of the love
That we used to cherish

Let the fire burn
Tearing down
This haunted manor
Of the conflagration of lies

Turn off these lights forever.
These ashen lips bear scarification.
The mirrors I saw you with, shattered.
My pride bearing the brunt of the ruin.

Where molten ashes once flowed
Only cooling blood remains
Sticking to my feet, like a vise.
And I left, troubled mind going back to black.

The crown I wore, the jester's hat I adorn my head with now,
With the Kingdom in rubble,
I go back to her, and you go back to black.


My blood now settled, with the rebellion awaiting their Red Queen once again.
The ebony sea parting for the ivory pedestal to place your head on.
The tapestries in tatters, madness apparent in your eyes.

And I hold her hand, going back to black.
The pindrop silence shattered with the black disquiet.
Black curtains, with the grey smoke.
Black lips, rotted away.
Black memories, in my ashes.
Black speech, into my stride.

We go back to black.
The toppled bride, the dead love that couldn't go no further, down the side of the coronation tower steps her head goes ; the boy, the dog died with her a long time ago.

Now, the Black God, The King In Black, The Beast, The Lord Of The Moor rises.
A union of red and black, no longer in doubt.
March 2017.
Batchelor
Written by
Batchelor  30/M/Singapore
(30/M/Singapore)   
84
   Batchelor
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