The King in Black and Other Poems

In the dark of night they spire

past the wailing funeral pyres

Stairs that climb and touch the sky

and then come crashing down

The sickly green that is his eyes

will not shine through his best disguise

Your fear is ever heightening

as he comes without a sound

For fear it is on which he dines

extinguishing all that would shine

stealing all the brightness

'till there's no more to be found

And when you think he won't attack

the crystals turn from blue to black

pray that he won't end you

as you slowly turn around

And scream before you hit the ground