I saw you coming,
but somehow I failed to lock the door.
With your pocket full of lies,
and your bucket and brush,
ready, you were,
to paint everything Black.

As you pass through the thresh hold,
throwing your stuff in the corner,
I felt the ripples.
You took a look around,
planning, in your head,
first attack the weak spots with black.

Your voice, bittersweet,
cant help but to listen,
you seem to know me.
Yes, we’re old friends,
quickly, you are,
painting each day Black.

You’re almost done now,
you moved so fast.
By the time I realize, nothing left,
but one pane of glass.
Finished, you thought,
painting me Black.

Running blindly, in the dark I’ve let you create.
I must find the clear pane,
break it and escape!
Why do I let you get so close?
Please, leave me now,
and take your Black.