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A short dark walk through a moment of my youth

What a funny thing is a piece of rope,
Lithe and sinuous as a snake,
With a hide like an old man's hands.
I remember well, hot summers days;
Young children, khaki clad,
Struggle and strive to master its skill;
'Twas you who did so first.

What a funny thing is a piece of rope,
Molded by a young child's hands;
Into bolines, splices and granny knots.
My darkness desired more.
The hangman's noose,
An evil knot, I asked the master how,
He would not tell.

What a funny thing is a piece of rope,
How it draws the darkness out,
A week later I mastered it's morbid ways;
Thirteen turns, loop below,
The whole packed good and tight.
I taught to you my evil skill,
You laughed with delight.

What a funny thing is a piece of rope,
How it groans with weight attached;
Cold ground just touching cold, black toes.
Once light and dark together ran
Now only darkness dwells
My darkness gave to you the craft
Your passion gave the will.

What a funny thing is a piece of rope.
The way it rasped against the wood
As they lowered the light into the ground
Neath where the Raven stood.
Cast down from the preacher's grimy hands
Dark red sod on the light ones form
Darker the tears in the Raven's eyes

What a funny thing is a piece of rope.