Nyx (Goddess Of Night, Mother Of Death, Born Of Khaos) Poem by Dementia DeSalvo

Her hair is sleek, burnt black in a strange disarray
Her lips who knows what lurks there- kisses stollen from innocence lost
where unseen serpents glide

She plays her divine game, a rolling of the bones the rattle of death's delay
She rides atop her nightmare down through life's eternal passage, to where?
No one way and yet all lead the same
none can hide

We fall and another will take our place free to decay
We are, we have, we live, we weep- all is to be gained, all are at loss,
It's all the same, it's all the same, It's all insane
It's all... Khaos.