Dance macabre (Eternal)

In room with 

dancing shadows,

where marble

glimmer in the dark,

and where 

shadowless musicians  

play on violins

made of stars,

you - the queen

with no reflection -

you take my hand -

we slowly dance.

And over darkest

mountain ridges

my battered soul

begins to fly.

.

What’s left of me   

bellow is waltzing

on dusty,

marble dancing floor.

I know that beat,

I’ve heard the music –

the melody of

wounded, aching souls.

Eternally antagonistic –

two pieces of one whole - forever now

are separated - I am the pieces 

of one body and a traveling in sadness soul.

The dance will never end, 

nor it has beginning.

I am the floor, the music 

and the shadows on the floor.

And so my soul will always travel.

The rest of me will dance macabre - 

lost in melody 

of wounded, aching souls.