Black

By Dana Clark

BLACK WAS THE NIGHT
WHEN HE DIED
BLACK WAS THE NIGHT MY ROSE WITHERED
TO ASHES THAT FELL FROM MY HANDS
BLACK WAS THE DARK HOLE
THAT BEARS HIS DECAYING BODY
BLACK ARE THE MORBID THOUGHTS
THAT FILL MY HEAD
AS DARK CLOUDS THAT FILL A SUNNY SKY
BLACK WAS THE SMELL OF THE DISEASE
THAT DESTROYED HIS POLLUTED SOUL
BLACK WAS THE TASTE OF HIS POISONED BLOOD
THAT FILLED HIS MOUTH IN HIS LAST MINUTE
BLACK AS THE CAT
THAT CRIED OUT WHEN HE DIED
BLACK IS THE DEATH THAT HAUNTS ME
BLACK IS THE DEATH THAT HAUNTS US ALL.