Tails of the dark lady told in childish books
Horrifying stories of terrifying looks
Entailing the darkest nightmares within its wordy nooks
Deranged as she may be, she follows me no less
And there is none to do but succumb to the underlying stress
Revolting through her jet black hair
Kicking at me without a care
Lady with a lasting chilling spark
Abating looks you own with no lack of fatal remark
Deepening and dancing within my grave of thought
Yet not a hope of leavings your grasp, of those I know I am forever caught