Monday, November 22, 2010

It's dark

Speak, slowly, it’s dark,
candle, fire, a little spark,
a step, walk, you stumble,
leaf, falls, a crumble.

A shadow falls, ov’r the sky,
the day dies, without a cry,
the dog barks, the hen sleeps,
dead leaves, the widow sweeps.

Dawns the dark on the night,
voices sleep whispering bright.
I come n’ sit, on the chair,
watching the floor, barely fair.

The cold came whispering me tales,
of dead birds, n’ silent wails,
of drowning men, n’ fallen kings,
of crying girls, n’ empty swings.

The blinds were dull,
the air was a lull,
The eyes were sleep,
a distant weep.

I clutched, the wood,
I slowly stood,
One hand had the flicker,
the other, the liquor.

The wail had its prey,
it started its say,
“The moon may shine,
tonight won’t be fine,
the candles will die,
as the bats will fly,
your eyes will talk to dust,
behind pages, spies will rust
you are watched by dark,
surrounded by the bark,
the dark will reveal,
the devil’s own deal
but you’ll fail to see,
as you struggle with glee,
thus you are my prey,
as night lives its day.”

Silence, drowned, the place,
extinguished dark, with grace,
stunned, I stared,
into the hollow,
empty, nothing, to follow.

It felt strange, dying,
like a laughter crying,
my soul, wandered, lost,
cold, still, like frost,

I slumped, and fell,
bliss, engulfed with a swell,
the dark showed me life,
accompanied by a heart’s strife.

I may have been a prey,
beyond black, lied my grey,
the dark showed me all,
from big, wrong, right to small.

A smile etched, I blinked,
died, as the cups broke and clinked.