Student Poetry Submissions

There is darkness, descending. 
Seeping through the pores of goodness and truth, infiltrating our world like an enemy spy.
It forms the blackest of winds, the murkiest water, the chillest winter to which warmth is a distant recollection.
It comes through forms of glittering gold, through candlelight and the notes of a violin, through the stained wood of an intricately carved arch.
An arch that leads into a ballroom where dancers blur in emerald and ruby.
The darkness descends and casts the room pitch black. Screams sound as the darkness seems to laugh with triumph.
And then there is a silence, enough to deafen any onlooker, the acceptance of a new, bleak reality. 
The darkness remains.