In the back of the room, forsaken and solitary, sit the black sheep.
Adorned in corresponding hues of ebony and charcoal, to spiraled shades of fabric Paint so deep.
Pallid-like skin contrasting somber tones left what appeared to be a phantasmal glow, Subdued only by dismal cosmetics and shadowy locks.
Yet underneath would reveal where the truth remains boxed.
Synonymous with ravens and petrifying pleasure.
Looks sometimes stray from what is familiar.
Monotone customs are not appreciated by all but offer bliss to those who are willing to Look.
Black crosses, talon-sharp nails painted with only the darkest of dyes, and wearing Layers of black clothing like an artist layers paint over what he mistook.
From the bassist’s hard lines and deep voiced vocals to lewd themes of narcotic fueled Crazes, the atmosphere surrounding these individuals is always thick with counterfeit tension.
Within actuality, all is not always deleterious for these independents.
Music and clothing don’t come close to defining someone’s life.
Because bad things have happened, doesn’t mean this type of person can’t be blithe.
Simply caged birds who have lost the will to sing, this mindset can provide an alluring Finesse, when taken correct.
Roughly godforsaken, or believing they are, with memories they are scared to resurrect.
Imperfection should not be thrown towards this category.
Maybe the liking of jet-black tones is not socially acceptable, except for in this simple allegory.
The title of “goth” is almost always considered a problem.
Although some overlook it like the change of seasons into autumn.
Reflected at first glance is the love of the night.
Unlike those creatures, common sense shows these types don’t bite.
The black attraction can be easily misunderstood,
But in their hearts, some are good.