Black

Black always come to mind
When I write a poem
Black creeps into my pen
When it lands

Is this what's in me?
Is this my soul?
Am I truly evil?
Do I have this under control?

If so
What could draw it out?
My secret beast
Laced into my poetic weavings

Do I fear the darkness?
The endless abyss
That sits
On my throne

My black core
Could make a bitter end
It's sweet symphony
Could take me to darker lands

A chorus of evil
A malevolent parade
A twisted play
How long must I keep
This black charade