To Waltz To Die
To waltz and to die
With
the grace of shadows.
Flowing black cloak.
Silver Scythe.
Empty
eyes.
I find my love.
Cold stare.
Thin lips.
Still heart.
And
this creature,
Whom I loved above all.
This sad, pitiful mortal
Whose
sun has set
But the softness of night
Preserves her beauty right.
Pale
skin, dead smile
And hair of angel thread.
A hollow laugh escaping her
corpse.
An icy sound
Of torment and Hell.
And with a touch of her dry
finger
I know my love is gone.
Danced away from me
In the arms of the
suitor
Known only as Eternity.
-Matt White
