The Dark Holeby Rhea Gulin
There is this dark hole.
A huge, deep, filthy dark hole.
A hole none had ever seen,
A hole that lies from within.
They say that the dark hole can be seen through the eyes,
And that its feeling is as cold as ice.Yet, it is buried deep within the human soul,That huge, deep, filthy dark hole.It is what identifies a man differently,To the empty lonely streets of where it threw its wrecked family.It is what builds up a murky and infinite wall,This huge, deep, filthy dark hole.The hole is filled up of you all in avante-garde suite.Grotesque, absurd and feeds on a bitter fruit.It's what makes you breathe,But on death is where it lead.I reckon the hole had once pulled me in,Drowning me to a creepy ocean of each possible sin.It got caverns of gold and mine,and I have preserved all its transgressions in my mind.The dark hole is inside each and everyone,It's strongest during our slumber and fades with the sun.Nevertheless it's what stitches our nightmares,Off to the surreal yet spooky lairs.I am speaking right inside my dark hole.The huge, deep, filthy dark hole.And I am feeling right before my every veins,Your dark hole too, is buffing up to see you in candy canes.I am in the dark hole.I have the dark hole.I am the dark hole.You are in the dark hole.You too, have the dark hole.You are the dark hole.
Meet my inspiration, Wednesday Addams.
Isn't she such a sweetheart?