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The Starkness Of Sheer Darkness.

Updated on January 2, 2010


The starkness of sheer Darkness!    


Darkness is found most
in the eyes of the dead
when their gleam of life,
that spark of hope
is extinguished,
and the glassy pupil fixed,
is but a inky ball
of unseen tomorrows!

There is a darkness most stark,
in the confines of a
satin lined box, sealed tight
where bones collapse
when sinew rots,
and no one hears
them tumbling,
nor sees their patterned
piles in the darkness
of a coffin long buried.

Darkness lurks in alleyways,
in a long black trench coat,
in deep pockets holding,
a sharpened knife,
set to rend a black gash
in the throat of his next victim.
Darkness is the soul
of the killer,
and when his soul dies,
the darkness absorbs him
into the darkness of demons,
who delight in his fear
ripping his flesh
and tormenting him,
painting his genitals
with fire, and black pitch,
full of the darkness of hell.

Darkness is deepest

in the eye holes
of the skull of a corpse
in the bleakest of catacombs
strapped to the wall
mouth agape in a silent scream
and in the cavern where
the pupils once absorbed life
the starkness of the darkness
is like unto the hour before dawn

Darkness is the eerie shadows
under coverlets and mattress,
while above a young child quivers,
with a wild imagination,
knowing underneath his
shaking bed, a monster
lurks to snare him,
if he dares just put his foot down,
it will surely be sucked under,
so he screams across the darkness,
till his cries arouse his
"MOOOOOO O O O O M ! ! ! "

Darkness often calls the rapist.
who in black jeans
grows a flesh shank.
used to overpower women.
stabbing them a thousand slashes.
just to make his darkness brighter.
with a gut wrenching explosion.
after using and abusing.
one much weaker then himself.

Darkness is the devil
who assumes so many forms,
he is now a stack of letters,
that form the sentences you're reading,
and when the poem is finally over,
he will snatch your living soul,
unless you grant this poet comments,
you'll be forever Satan's trophy,
used for kindling his bonfires,
to burn all the other writings, 

besides this dark one before you,
 all their tiny bits of brilliance,
when they flare and turn to ash,
will enlighten you so quickly,
to the sheer darkness of this poem.






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