“The Wind Is Black”
Black time moves backwards,
Underneath moon’s crystal light.
The sky looks below,
Seeing midnight’s rise and fall.
I walk out, a conscious soul.
A whisperer among the silent.
A canal is at my left,
The water is as oil,
Black and dangerous.
I see street lamps through the gossiping trees,
They make the world melt away into a swirling pool of golden dreams.
I shake myself awake,
I do not wish to fall.
At my right,
The wind walks alongside me,
I tell it my secrets, it will not tell.
I look down, into the calling abyss,
I wonder “Will it bring a hellish bliss?”
The wind stays silent,
The trees shout, incomprehensible wailing.
The moon cries a blue tear.
The caped black maiden invites me,
asks me not to turn my back,
Who will stop this confusion of cacophony?
The moon sets,
The black maiden recedes.
Sun’s white line appears.
I try and forget the abyss, the endless dark.
But the voice of her still haunts my already haunted mind,
Don’t turn your back…