Black Hope

I cought the  winter wind in my hair
then dealt it with a sleight of hand
and there met hope as a diamond hearted pair.

I Hope they call a spades a spades,
think they know when a bluff's a bluff.
Knock! take this face to the depths of hades.

Quick!soon bullets strike vital parts.
Shallow qualms,your palm calls,beckons
pangs of terror will scruple their intrepid thoughts....

The End

7 comments about this poem Feed