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Black Forest

By J Ann Crowder

She is a Black Forest hiding beneath an aphotic moon
 
Her veins transform into ink-like branches ever expanding as ripples on magic lakes
 
'Tis a smoky template of color rising above a charcoal earth, where looming trees kiss dark nights
 
Admired are perching ravens residing within; their sacred feathers gleaming an ebony silk streaming like clouded star shafts
 
An obsidian musk enshrouds her doubts lingering on burnt tides
 
In this place stillness abides, unapproachable; yet, strong and contained
 
Mysterious, befalling a melenoid cloak, she sings light musings of a black wren unknown
 
In this place her untouched, nefarious particles shine beautiful as eternal shimmers of coal hued diamonds
 
Within her cocooned, sable midnight she drifts through dreams falling as dead leaves on comforting rivers

Written November 19th, 2016. This may appear dark but it isn't meant to be. It's meant to be light and beautiful. In a way it is describing the hidden soul. It is secret, in a quite, dark place no one can truly see or comprehend. Still beautiful. The soul is expressive yet untouchable and hidden. We can't see it.

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