On The Darkest Night Poem by Charles Bernabi

Suddenly, from afar I heard father's rage forlorn
If death did not have him cold yet, I mused,
What bold ghost did surface, which were there born?
And sought girls of merit ne'er wholly abused.

Here where I dwelled there amassed the pilgrims
That thro' the devil preached their unholy whim,
They came insanely spewing forth-ancient maxims
When twilight dawned and father's sin was grim.

He surged there a giant of demonic superstition
Then hast opened up my soul to see inside,
I consequently felt his atrocious caliginosity a tradition
Unbecoming wherefore I abhorred his vile bide

And he brutally ripped my soul apart, with force
I felt the surge of necromantic spirits rise to,
Then betoken they were outspread in due course
As there on the mirror of deceit 'fore me askew.

I gazed at it for awhile, that aberration of Hades
A bane on my weary bones it were quite bad,
Henceforth my father erupted with furore in charades
Publicly creating a mockery of everything I had.

And the girls he sought, they would bleed in pain
Whence it occurred they were drained of blood,
And their flesh was torn, their skull he crashed to gain
Access to the brain, of which he'd, dipped in mud.

On this day the heavens bled buckets of despair
Flooding then the pages of history I clung to,
Many virgins were caught in that rush of a bitter impair
Which happened on the darkest night I ever knew.