Bonds of darkness

Roses are black,
violets are white,
they are all the same,
on a grave at night.

Blood is black,
skin is gold,
we whither the same,
young and old.

Hearts are black,
brains are pink,
but all rotting corpses,
emanate the same stink.

My guitar is black,
my music may be red,
but each note played,
is stained with the blood I’ve bled.

And the world is black,
the sun is too,
for the lonely child,
on the dark side of the moon.

The light may be bright, it may even be dim,
but darkness shall bind us, forever in our sins.

By: Viraj Belgaonkar