in the darkest forest tonight is a gathering of darklings . . . .
it's always black
of course
like a panther's fur that has never seen the sun
in this dark obscurity
is a lake
a lake that makes you think:
black metal
there must be company in this black
in this pure darkness there is the slight glimmer of their eyes
they are silent until they sing a breathy tune
Type O Negative - Black no. 1 in my mind
a faint smile crosses my lips as the tune teases me, threatening to get hardcore but then drifting into a beautiful melody with distorted guitars and harpsichord all in a gothic flow
there must be smoke
smoke in this darkness
in a forest
late at night
no disappointment of light
nothing to end this gathering
darkness with company
their breathy voices
laughing
passing around a tray with poisons of choice
I sigh and lean my head back
onto a tree that I can't even see in this beautiful darkness
