Dark Harbinger

When sun succumbs to winter’s light

and day dreams deadly, battling night

Shades of black innocence, huddling there,

their passion now plucked; such fair despair!


That empty flower of barren truth,

bearing no burden ‘cept lies uncouth

Poor pallid prism, dirtied with age,

and tainted with witchcraft, violence, and rage!


Such is a story that many once knew

Accounts indeed vary, but often hold true

an encompassed oblivion, wrought from the dark,

my story begins now; with prudence do hark!

The End

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