Share   Print  Save   Become a Fan

Please forgive this poem. I wrote it when I was like 15, but it's some of that dark poetry I talked about in my bio.

He came to me when the lights went out
and darkness claimed the land.
Cold breath blew through my hair
icy fingers stroked my hands.
All of my senses were disabled and
I longed to regain my sight.
For who was before me kneeling
was the god of the color of night.

Then suddenly some light was cast
upon the shadowed ground.
And the blowing wind through the trees
became a defening sound.
Then he stood and cast his cloak
and never before was there a sight
as the hideous red-scaled skin
of the god of the color of night.

He sat upon my chest and
with steel fingers he had bound
me to the altar that which
was never common ground.
He whispered to me words of pleasure,
and of promise and delight.
But never was I more leery
Of the god of the color of night.

Then he slid over me with
the agility of a snake.
Telling of things he was to do,
all the things he would take.
Creeping ever slowly he knelt at my side
whispering of wrongs he longed right.
And as he soothed me I lay there
Begging to my god of the color of night.

Then he came upon me
and I had no second chance
for when his lies quit coming
we commenced the pagan's dance.
And then our souls melded
as he cried with delight
but when he finished I lay there
Weeping to my god of the color of night.

Then his words ceased sounding
quite as comforting as before.
His black lips formed a smile
as he asked me to dance once more.
Then my heart saddened
as the dark gave way to light.
For I knew I'd burn for dancing
with my god of the color of night.