You want black
It won’t be far,
You find tracts
Of spirit’s char,
You want dark
Just look about,
Man fixed stark
And imaged sad,
In fare he’s spun
Yet ne’er regard,
The ruin he runs
To distort colour,
That will blur sun
Thus attain pallor,
Till dark turns black
In a world so marred,
There be no turning back!
ode to Leonard Cohen