She spoke softly as the wind brushed her hair
The small blue orbs in her eyes quaked while in wait
Her whole body spoke its emotions fair
She continued to speak to avoid her fate.
"Cruel Dark Knight, speak unto me and address my plight.
I wish to breathe, I wish to see
Take not my light, please do not make me fight.
For you are a cruel thief, with whom none feel."
The Knight only furrowed his brows with his hands on his raised crescent moon
Her cries on dead ears fell with no time left so soon
Only loud silence as her eyes looked to the falling crumpled rose petals
Her soul communicated grief as the petals were caught in a black kettle
A moonless night then veiled her senses, much against her will
"My job is complete" said the knight with back turned
As he swayed in walk, a jubilance overcame with his sick thrill
For now none will be unwise to spurn

Copyright J-P.G.

Please critique and be brutally, yet politely, honest.

I also wish to explain my rhyming pattern is ABAB with a little AABB between. There's also a few false rhymes in there.

This is a symbolic poem for death. Why death? Because I was bored and couldn't come up with anything good. The Dark Knight is death itself in symbolic form. The crescent moon is his scythe. The rose petals ought to be a dead give-away. The black kettle is symbolic of the topsoil on the ground.

__________________
Delete the 28th from all October calendars. Now.

Я Бог

OCA to RWA: "You have a direct line, or does yours recircuit through Hades where your hero Adolph is the switchboard operator?"