Night

A flash of electric, a rush of cold air,
A snowflake inferno chills my body, bare,
A frigid expulsion of crystalline dread,
Bites deep in the aura of lustrous dead.

A wake of blue nova, caressing the sky,
Ensuring the toxic tongue sticks to its lie,
Depression, collapsing, relapsing the scene,
A reverie of the soul, bloodied ravine.

The fatal acrylic of necromage rite,
Engulfing the pentacle on this cold night,
A canvas of blue, with the blue painted black,
And a pale confession, the reaper's on track.