The Dark Lands

The sea is crashing dark against the shore,

the sand lays white as freshly-driven snows…

the landscape will be dark forever more,

the deep earth caught in silent, shadowed throes.

The wine of music hums throughout these lands,

the trees do bear the deadly fruit of queens…

poisoned by the hate of ill-tempered hands

that tremble not at the slicing of spleens.  

Armed by innocence, you beget desire,

with lips of dew and eyes of wild passion...

the beads of sweat reflected a dark fire,

paid for by sacrificing compassion.

You were dark as I, but deadly in lands

of blackness, of hatred, held by pale hands.