Black Goth

‘Why do you colour your lips so black,

Darken your piercing eyes,

What are you hiding behind your back,

Have you been telling me lies?

Why are you wearing those knee length boots,

Pulling that cloak round, tight,

Where are you going, under the Moon,

Where will you be tonight?

Christabel grimaced but wouldn’t reply,

She turned, with her hand on the door,

Gazing right through me, I’d thought that she knew me

But there was no love like before.

Her brows, they were furrowed, her eyes hard as glass,

Her lips they were pursed in contempt,

I should have left then when she’d put down the pen

But I didn’t know then what it meant.

I knew she was moody, I knew she was dark,

She’d flutter round blind, like a moth,

She always wore black, even out in the park,

They warned me, they said ‘She’s a Goth!’

I’d found her entrancing at first, I admit,

I tried to get into her mind,

But once in those raveling tunnels of darkness

The deepest of thoughts were unkind.

I picked up the note she left screwed on the floor

The moment she left for the night,

‘I have to see Jack,’ she had scribbled, ‘That’s that!’

I must put my nightmares to flight.’

I knew there was darkness and heartache to come,

She’d promised him plenty of strife,

But then I’d jumped in to his bucket of sin

As I thought she was out of his life.

I asked her at first was she over him yet,

And yes, she assured me she was,

But surely his name wouldn’t drive her insane

If it wasn’t a question of loss!

A terrible feeling came over me then,

I needed to know where she went,

So headed on out to where Jack hung about,

I shouldn’t have gone, I repent.

I saw through the window the angel of death

Her cloak streaming out, like a moth,

And he in the corner, not catching his breath

His throat in the grip of a Goth!

I tried to burst in but the door was deadlocked,

I saw the knife raised in her fist,

Then plunge, and a scream like some terrible dream,

For just as he died, she had kissed!

She came out toward me but covered in blood,

On hands, on her lips and her face,

While I backed away, I had nothing to say,

But,‘Heaven above, lend me grace!’

She ran away, stumbling, on through the dark

But she’d not seen her nightmares off,

I found she was hung on a light in the park,

In her mouth was a fluttering moth.

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[andrew mitchell]

A lovely woven flow of magic in this write again David. such flair and so smooth, great story!

[R Smith]

very dark indeed David, he certainly could not have realised the monster he desired, this Goth girl could make a come back to your pages anytime she has wings to fly and bring us more darkness I think :)

[RomaJ]

I enjoyed reading this delightfully dark tale
spurred by heart break of perhaps, a woman scorned.
These crimes of passion
tales are always fascinating at the same time, horrifying;
It's hard to look away.
I like the symbol of the moth, how it represents goth girl,
both nocturnal creatures
Creatures of the dark.
I find it fitting the moth was
found fluttering in her mouth
as if it was releasing the darkness that dwelled within her heart.

[3X3MPLER]

great writing skills.i like it

[Breanna Riddle]

I Love It!! you always make your poems into a sort of short story using words and creating a vivid scene for the reader. I am once again speechless this was absolutely amazing.

[Valentine]

Something scary for All Hallows Eve? Many are wearing that black lipstick and black fingernail polish. Hope they stay out of that park. Valentine

[Avinash]

The range of women which appears in your tales is quite astonishing. They are quite believable in their characterization hinting the profound life experiences of the writer. Thanks for inviting to such a relishing dark piece.

[A Soap Mess Stories]

Good story David. A pleasure to read.