The Lady in Black.

Her tresses meandering at the reach of my far fetched thoughts,
where my head wandered she lay swaying her mane,
bewitched by the darkness, I never have been,
that darkness, I say has an aura unseen.

She is darkest than the darker sins
that my darkness has taken me,
Shes holier than the holiest skins
that have donned the higher being.

Her head is high, her voice is low
as incantations of her spell,
In her own deep throaty echo
she says it all, she says it well.

I know her now, I know her not,
I see her now, I see her not
she takes my pride, she takes my blames
I hate her now, I love her the same.

She dwells in the most wise of thoughts,
she lingers in foolish emotions,
she is the steadiest strengthened rock
and the sea that lashes it in commotion .

In fervor now, In my sense
In consciousness , in in-cognizance
the insider and the outsider
the bounded one in the wanderer.

I see the fading, spells of black
I see that silhouette turning back
I see a shadow in colour,
in the the silver of a fringed frame.
I know the flesh and scent of her,
and she says none could spare a name.