b l a c k h e l l h o l e
(and it echoes within - shall it be, shall it stay)
Darker than the blackest cat –
The night falls upon the manor like a soft blue blanket -
Yet the blanket is neither fleecy nor warm.
You shudder under its chilly weight, it is near to unbearable temperatures,
No matter how many wool and goose-feather sheets are upon you,
Your shivers shake the entire bed (Lucius snores on, however)
It is all black, and you are once again, alone.
Without a single being beside you, for you –
Without a single light showing you the way, the path-
You wonder if that is the end of your fate, as a Black
(laugh ridiculously at the pun, Lucius won't be up to scold you)
(laugh as hard as you can, for there is no laughter after)
He is your husband – as pale as ever,
Immaculately a white tone
(but is his heart white as well? Or is it as black as hell?)
The question echoes into the darkness
-into the blackest night.
For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright, who art as black as hell, as dark as night. –William Shakespeare