Deadly Nightshade

an ode to my dark muse that sometimes visits at different times.

This poem is dedicated to that muse haunting my thoughts when I turn my pen to drip dark ink...

 

 

 

 

Is it not strange my love,

I rely on your silence and cover to keep me sane?

 

 

The inky blackness renders blindness;

where no one may see the sad emptiness.

 

The light of day you greet in battle is my darkened night;

neap tide of the blind...

 

 

 

Hidden well within your monochromatic grounding,

of beauty in color unseen...

 

I revel in your black blood ,

the echo of after image burn, on old and weary retinas.

 

I adore the anonymity of your soul,

it hides me in only hints of sin and remorse!

 

 

 

Hidden too, the happiness of strangers' red doors,

bragging of the secret of love---

 

I care for them not, they move in broken frames,

jerking and jeering and laughing!

 

All derision at the night,

the fear they show and run from it now...

 

 

 

Who would I be without the night---

to mask the flash of your eyes in scorn?

 

Your perfect skin and your perfect soul---

awash in adoration of the day crowd...

 

Thank the black dark inky love,

my mistress and muse;

 

Hysteria when you're near

Author's Note

she's a delight, ain't she?

Reviews

[Ardra]

Who would I be without the night---

she is indeed beautiful :)
nice pics... and beautifully presented..

[Leo Elderkin]

You are so kind in your appraisal, Ardra. Thank-you very much!

[R.E. Ray]

So deep that I'm still processing it. Incredibly powerful. You're an outstanding writer.

[Leo Elderkin]

You are kind to say so, Robert. Thank-you, sir!

[Leo Elderkin]

You have to understand that the subject I am referring to is my unseen dark side that is a place I go to pen some of my word art that is published under a pseudonym.

Everyone has that cynical, private side to their personality that usually only presents itself in public by accident or overflow of emotions...

Go to yours sometime and try introspection of why you fell better after a cathartic private rant about someone or some thing. That place was put there by nature for some reason I have never been able to fathom, but it serves some function in our mental health, I imagine.