Day turns to night.
Daylight melting away into darkness,
Life melting away into the arms of
The dead.
Laughter turns to silence,
Memories turn to dust,
All that’s left are burning ashes,
Scattered across the planet’s deserted crust.
We’re all his captives.
We’re all his prisoners-
Pale and helpless,
Waiting for the time he knocks on our door
And offers us a ride in his dark carriage.
Kings turn to servants,
Servants turn to slaves,
Names and faces are forgotten
As crowns and spades are abandoned.
He is the ultimate judge
The unquestioned ruler of the darkness.
We all fall to his frozen touch,
His frozen tendrils lingering and crushing both
Mind and heart,
Forcing the soul to desert
the body it used, tore and abused.
He remained the same,
Since the times of Egypt and Rome,
To the worlds of Hitler and Stalin.
Always prompt,
He executes his job,
never taking a single day off.
He’s an excellent worker.
He loves his job.
He never speaks a word.
He only observes from the shadows,
Like a raven perched on a branch at the graveyard,
He’s got no use for words.
Communication is for mortals.
He watches infants grow.
He courts the lonely teenager.
He comforts the wiling adults.
He guides the nostalgic grandmother.
He resides behind the world,
In shadows where the time refuses to move,
But on that one day,
At midnight,
He steps into the world of the living
Parading off his army of
Unconscious believers that the human eye
Is blind towards
He reaps for his job,
For no single being can resist,
His gentle frozen touch.
Black is the absence of white.
Night is the absence of daylight.
Death is the absence of life.