Noir Jazz

From a distant land, was broken a string

It was a murder, a few reached to hear
A gently flame just killed her fling
Im ready my lord, but first, gross my ear
Such a peculiar petition, Ill take it oh dear
The sonic scum shall never rebirth again
And the filth went away leaving no single tear
When suddenly a fern come to her brain

A smell of gardenia arrives mild thus deep

Her old spot of darkness vanished first
Is this a miracle? The sightless quickly weep
If pain go away, now dirty sounds will burst
Still, she didn't want by redemption be nursed
want to trace my doom, Ive waiting for long
No heed, no scenes thus the scent was the worst
You break at once, sealed to my song

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

This one is the original poem

My Soul Is Dark Lord Byron

My soul is dark Oh! quickly string

The harp I yet can brook to hear;
And let thy gentle fingers fling
Its melting murmurs oer mine ear.
If in this heart a hope be dear,
That sound shall charm it forth again:
If in these eyes there lurk a tear,
Twill flow, and cease to burn my brain.

But bid the strain be wild and deep,

Nor let thy notes of joy be first:
I tell thee, minstrel, I must weep,
Or else this heavy heart will burst;
For it hath been by sorrow nursed,
And ached in sleepless silence, long;
And now tis doomed to know the worst,
And break at once or yield to song.