Night Black, black, black, black! It is not a color. It is oblivion! It is the howl of a wolf in the distance, The inky darkness in the dead of night The raven perched on a lonely branch above Perhaps it is a darking, created of evil blood and Made to spy on the innocent and righteous It is funeral dirges, and the Void It is of depression and sadness And don't forget the choices it brings Ringing of choices as the snake eats it's tail And everything comes full circle Completing eternity at the beginning of time It is the mighty serpent out of the dark waters To rise and destroy the invaders of it's territory. It's the moon, waxing and waning Under the watchful eye of the Caretaker. It is the cold reality of truth The ice water dumped over one's head It is representative of what cannot be And what must prevail for the greater good. Protocol it is also And protocol be damned! It is the past And the past is to be forgotten It is the symbol of completion And so goes hand in hand with Ing* And it is one, as it is all . . . *Ing- the Norse god of completion.