BLACK LACE

for Karen

Black lace
Like Arachne's web
Intricate patterns
Of life and death.

Woven by skilled hands
Long graceful fingers
Hold the thin threads
Of the lines of fate.

Dark eyes
Without passion
Holds the burning cold
Of Saturn's dreams.

Ivory skin
Like finest porcelain
But her heart is heavy
Molten lead, hardened.

Her red lips move
Nothing but whispers
Like night breezes
That chill the misguided.

- Doomsday

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