Black
Black the raven’s wing appears
Poised for somber flight,
Black the craven soul who hears
Demons in the night.
Black the rose a witch has kissed,
Black its withered frame,
Yet the man-made devil-mist
Puts the rose to shame.
Be the magic what it will
Black as chimney stack
None so black but blacker still:
Armaggedon-black.
Copyright © Steve Eng | Year Posted 2010
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