Paint it Black (Raven)

I see myself in shades of monochrome,

skin dusted ash and hair singed.

I burn with every lick of heat I have endured and in turn, bottled,

stored in the husk of artistry no one is allowed to take from me.

Every word I speak is poison,

thick with vitriol on my forked tongue that forms stories,

heretics behind an enamel cage.

My song is an epic, deep and dark.

Taunting. Haunting.

They know the person with pale skin, and kind eyes.

They do not get to know the entity that bleeds dark,

and stains eternal.

They can take my body, and they can mar my heart, but I will always avenge it.

I will ruin them, syllable by bloodied syllable.

I am the soul, after all. You cannot kill that.