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Narrative Poetry

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Narrative Poetry
Black Diamond Night (a coalminer’s cemetery) Where the ebony, we call “NIGHT”, Old black rocks sit under the twilight. Diamond shape eyes unclear and lonely, Sinister through hostile spirits only, I stumble across these stones without a bone. A solitary confinement alone, From a barren zone the light transcend. Only in time, our minds will mend. Endless valleys and limitless stones. These bones- these bones they sit alone. The abyss, of rotten cavities with no fill, A system no power can unwell the drill The blood that passed over without a spill. Peaks collapse into a spellbinding chill. They are trapped! They are trapped! Another diamond in the rough. Is what they left. Obsessed by the dead without a death. Death that impatiently awaited their last breath. Gushing, unto the gems of dead chemistry, Diamonds holding its own intensity, These lonely graves, on top of sycamore hill. Coal mining hearts that will never heal. If only shiny eyes could see? These lonely bones inside of me! Moving in every direction possible Flowing in every direction noticeable. Sockets without eyes. Stones hiding under the cobalt skies. The mad sparkles, the madness dies. Throughout this mass, we held in the blasphemous. Intervening lots of gems so miraculous. Into a stone of self-religion, A black night filled of legions. Acknowledging the souls capacity of free. Near the frail bones that sit alone, Alone they sit in a morbid home. Through a path unclear and all alone, Troubled by the visions of my own stone. Where the night takes place in the dark. The ebony rides under the diamond bark. Along with the coalminers who never got to see the; “Diamonds of another

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