Within this pit of pitch I sit. No one near, none else here. Dark and dank, cold and crying, my soul, a hole, desolate and dying. Shouting out all about, silence echos drowning out the memories of a life and love now lost and alone. No light, no sight, only ebony black embracing tight. To slumber and slip away, forever giving sway to fates unflinching might. Sanguine drips, painful grips, ironic quips trips crashing thru my mind. I shall stay and play and pray that deaths comforting warmth is kind and never gone.
