While painting the nails she wonders why
she has so much affection for black.
It's cold and empty like evil eye,
reminds often of painful, hard whack
given by life.
Relentless, strict but with secret charm,
summons those thoughts you've tried to forget.
Grows the mortal fear like on truck farm,
cruelly forces you to regret
entire life.
She's painting her nails inspite of all,
thinking of wisdom she got from him,
seeing the black in unusual role.
Ignoring well known darkness, the dim
of her short life.
Because after all she's gonna prove
the black consist of so many hues
you've never wished, needed, foreseen,
you could be nev