The Kind of Darkness that frightens white men

It was the kind of darkness that frightens white men

When the men come into their own

And the real thing

Is about to come to fruit

As it shades out the weather prophets

And snows on the ether

They shall know it is for the ball

And chain

Not the hare and lemming

We sink to the floor and encircle

Our gloom

And wonder what is it that

Walks in the room

But the ghost of Evermore

 

Copyright B E Saunders 2016