Contrasts

Nightshade wilting on a shadowed sill,

A lady glooms out at the night,

While darkness ebbs in rhythmic tides

Against the stark white house.

Starless heaven lends no light

To wake the starving plant.

Porcelain cupped in milk-white palms…

She gazes out at the sky.

Black lace shading platinum tresses,

Blue tree shadows fall,

Upon pale face, black haunting eyes

As the dark storm clouds roll in.

Fingering gently the bluish leaves

With ivory hands so soft,

She plucks a leaf from out the stem

And casts it upon the floor.

Clouds recessing, the moon is round.

The nightshade stands aloft.

She smiles an evil cut of white,

With thoughts of darkness deep.

A spell to cast that binds the foe,

With the wickedest spell she knows…

But only in shadow comes the pain

Which needed the light to grow.