Black magic (acrostic)

Snaking veins do clot and crawl the
upper screams of slaughtered fools.
Poison slides with flicking tongues
erupt their words with flaring guns -
run through the ghouls with sharpened tools

West winds blow on mountains high
over the towns the wolves do cry.
Lonely are their souls this night
for death will fall from darkest heights.

Beauty bucks from all that’s dark,
languished hymns brand heavens mark.
On their hearts and in their visions
open graves of indecision…
Death will have its voice at last.

Minutes brush across the screens
onwards through the bloody leaves.
Obstructed beams become coal-black
Necromancy: breathes the red-dead back.

.

- Mr. Darcy
© 2019

watch this:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_dmzQNtMlIU