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

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