Spirit of Darkness

This is my spirit rising
From the embers of blackness.
Multitudinous hues
Depict one most spurned.

But,
Can the blue clouds above
Become dark?
Can the red molten magma
Become dark?
Is it too much that I lack
A whitened oblongata?
That my dark brain malfunctions
For reason,
For comprehension?
Processing only obscene images
Of utmost putrefaction.

This is my spirit rising
From the embers of blackness
Pardoning not Husseins’ and Harams’
Who waste my flesh in red waters.

But,
Is this knowledge of death
For explorers?
That I was procreated
From the Black Sea,
Darkened by feaces of ancestors
Worsened by mucus and phlegm’s
Of immediate genes?

But my spirit
Like Christ’s
Rises to right
The light of the
Night.