The Woman In Black

I can see in that confusion within her mind,

a distraction from the darkness within.

That pain within her, she'll never let it go nor forgive those

who care for her.

Losing herself to that smoky haze, fogging her mind

in a darkened well.

Wanting to rescue her from the darkness of her own devising.

A father who she feels never loved her,

abused her through cold neglect.

Lost within his own demons that he cannot escape.

A tragedy struck not long ago.

Someone close lost in shadow, fallen from grace.

Tears of sorrow, sobs of grief that never ends on this day, or any other.

How easy is it to lose yourself in a fog of the green,

devouring that pitch black smoke.

Reality shifting as a haze of pleasure fills her,

nothing but delusions.

Hate mixed with love, always running,

from what you never know.

The man she cares about, destructive in deeds

and in methods.

This darkness she's been forever lost in, beating against her mind,

drawing her away from hope.

Drawn to her as a knight with a cup in his hand, wanting to give

sustenance and a loving embrace.

Rejected and fallen from my white horse.

Her eyes wounded and filled with pain, denial plain for all to see.

Behind the haze lies so much pain that she can hardly bare.

Dazed and confused I arise and get back upon my horse.

My cup now half full when she may need it.

Off I ride to a dawn of another time.

Knight Of Swords

A man rides a mare of blackish hue.

Snow above a sight to behold on a day like yesterday.

Shattered hopes, a million pieces of bleak despair and that bitter

wine, drowning his sorrow in this pit of loneliness.

A cloak of stars wrapped neatly around his frame of mystery.

A sword, one edge for truth, the other for lies.

What does he see? But the ugly truth.

Beauty nothing but illusion, revealed by hard cruel laughter

from a nameless source.

A reflection of a face upon tarnished steel.

Red roses blossom around her still frame.

The knight rides on to a cloud far and away.

Necromancer

A necromancer dances to the vibes of

grave and rot.

Standing in shadow.

Beholding the night on a crystal blue day.

Upon his finger a ring of ivory most pale,

a grinning skull to the great beyond.

Mock him not for death is but a game.

A chant, a cry filled with foulness.

She stands in his grip.

Power flows and the sings upon his will.

Fear him, for death is but a game.

Moonlit Sky

I lay in the silvery moon light, basking in its glow that

is ever lasting in the darkest of nights.

A raven flies above my too still form.

A cry piercing my soul, opening the silence

of my being

The moon, glorious in its need and every breath

filling my spirit.

Evil and good entwined on a pillar of

black ice and molten lava.

What am I?
But glorious flesh!

Sacred Scars

These scars of mine, trailing down my

arms and into my soul.

The twilight of my past, reflecting a bitter

sweet symphony.

A single tear of blood trails down a ravaged

cheek of despair.

The sun above beating against my flesh like

broken shards of glass.

A dagger in my heart, dark red blood

dripping down my pale lips.

So what are these ravaged souls on a single

blade of tarnished glass?

A whisper in the wind, a cry of a lonely hawk

on a still blue day.

Alas the trivialities of morality as all morals

are mortal.

Sweet nectar of bitter tea as this throne

of swords bite into my pale flesh.

Woman With Midnight Hair

I close my eyes in passion as I glimpse the

woman with midnight hair.

Dark brown eyes of age old wisdom.

I fear her love followed by

cold rejection.

Swimming, drowning in a pool of tears

that is of her derision.

A sob of passion spurned.

Blind I am to the art of the one

night stand.

Always falling under the spell of

a long term love.

Awaking from my dreams in a cold sweat.

Sobbing upon a pillow etched out

of black despair.

How I wish we could fly above

in the open sky.

-Jeff B-

Heart Of Rot

Looking out my rear window that is of my soul,

fighting back my desire to kill.

A black hearted soul in a field of the damned.

Tears falling from that gray pit of misery,

a world of my devising.

My blade tipped with poison as sweet as the poppy

and as deadly as nightshade.

A crow upon my left shoulder, death and life

within it's shiny depths.

This empty feeling, invading my veins like a virus.

Blood flowing like a fountain on a noonday.

The life in his eyes draining.

His blood flowing upon that tiled floor

of ivory and ebony.

A pool of liquid ruby, tainted with the smell of desire.

His life filling that dark pit within my soul,

replacing that bleak despair.

Walking in this dark road with a smile of triumph.

Within lies a demon of glory and power,

a dragon within a hall of gold.

Smiling in twisted pleasure, a murder of crows

the mystery of the human heart.

Pleasure but a reflection of Pain while Good

but pale moon to the Sun of Evil.

Look within his dead eyes and you'll see his

chest rise and fall one last time.

Fall within and without and feed that heart

of worms and rot.

Moving, drifting in the dark abyss with

a smile upon my blackened lips.