Black As
Black as the ghost entered into the room,
Black as the sleep that my senses consume,
Black as the pot on the oven that boils,
Black as the servant that toils.
Black as the rage gnawing into my wits,
Black as the devils in destitute pits,
Black as the hell that lays claim on my soul,
Black as the day swallowed whole.
Black as the dizzying visions of war,
Black as the cat sitting proud on the floor,
Black as the sheen of the pitiless sea,
Black as the crow flying free.
Black as the wry hanging lip of the damned,
Black as the fate chewing into the land,
Black as the signal from alien ships,
Black as the hate on my lips.
Black as the tumult of love in decay,
Black as the anguish of babes in dismay,
Black as my funeral garb in the sun,
Black as the panthers that run.
Black as the witness of eschaton doom,
Black as the cotton that spins on the loom,
Black as my vault of contemptuous ire,
Black as the rod in the fire.
Black as the clandestine knowledge of joy,
Black as the bombs that the armies deploy,
Black as the mirror of stars on the lake,
Black as the thirst I can’t slake.
adamdaniel 