Dark Poems

Roses are red, and so is blood. . .

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7. 7.

 

The black of your hair

Dark as the night

I turn away though

Your not worth the fight

 

Your soft hand

Pulls me back

Onto your own

Dark track

 

Your evil has me

Nowhere to hide

The anger that is

Just churning inside

 

Pale as your skin

Rich as your voice

To turn away

That is my choice

 

To turn from your face

But you say no

That should I leave

I'll nowhere to go

 

Your dark eye's 

Clearly say

That should I leave

Everyone else will turn away

 

Your evil grin

Will scream victory

For your the star

Of your own love story

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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