Poetry, Random

Darker than Black

This night,

The cruel, the dark,

This night..


Imagine it being a sapling of a remorse. On its twigs, a thousand moons have cried upon their light. In it’s shadow, a hundred suns have lost their existence. But, in the same, those dying suns have disapparated into blossoms. Each of which, holds a haunting.

Gravely dark this night is.