Picturesque

A silver stream,

Shinning in the darkness,

A silver thread,

In a sea of needles,

Sharp as knives

They point straight up,

Calling, calling, calling,

Resist their points

Glinting dangerously

In the morbid darkness.

Thread the needle,

Make it whole again,

Sew a quilt of lies,

Just to tear it apart again,

Everything happens for a reason

So just flow with it

Drown with it,

Just to live again.

Pour out your very soul

And watch as it slowly turns black,

Black as the inevitable darkness

That will consume us all.