The Black of Me, a Desolate World
Blacker and blacker thrown deeper in sadness, forever to roam the everlasting darkness. The sun does not shine and the birds don’t play through this unearthly blackness, not one single ray.
A desolate world filled with paranoid fear there’s no way out of this haunting sphere. A dark train conductor travels with bad thoughts, over and along a black railway of sorts. He delivers terror with his stone cold glare and with his black heart he destroys the fair. It is a cruel world, no one is nice pure thoughts and ideas turned to ice. Trees do not grow in this barren land they need nurturing soil not black sand.
A desolate world only gloomy faces all trying to run, hide or find new places The stokers stopped their work at the fire, no more coal to fuel hopeful desire. Now they too are broken and black. Gone into the darkness, from which there is no way back. From back to front this world is cruel. Any to enter, be deemed a fool. There is one way in but no way out blackening waters is what this world is about.
A desolate world where dark thoughts win; The inhabitants, lost in sin. The once grand buildings fall and crumble they broke away when the blackness rumbled. Concrete faded and decayed to dust. Nothing left but foul black rust.
This world was once a lustrous creation but the black train came to take the nation hope fought as hard as it could only to be cast out like dying driftwood.
A desolate world now becoming blacker the brightness killed by an evil nutcracker. A black sun ascends over this dead nation shining its shadowy light over the dark train station. It is not around; off to steal more fear no matter though, it will be back here. This is the birth place of blackness and hate, the outcome of this realm left to fate. The darkness covering like a woolen houve. Sombre howls of darkness do move.
A desolate world where ballast leads to nowhere ongoing forever but never leaving this lair We are bound tightly in black leather our world held by a tether. Never to find the light we seek. The longer we stay, our soul turned dark and weak.
Dylan Smith is a first year law student at CDU. He loves academics; however, has always craved a more artist nature. He loves to write and is an aspiring author and poet.
