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The danse macabre
I’ve searched for months, for years to find,
you lying, without motion, without sound.
Closely bunched together, no working mind.
Pale death, ghostly death on the battle ground.
Exquisite creature with so little time,
lovingly, solemnly drained of thine beauty.
Speaker lost for words, poet lost of rhyme.
All lives lost in a final breach of duty.
Sworn to loyalty, so powerful, so radiant.
Light rays swarming the scenery in absolute awe.
Music is heard, secretly ambient.
Laying angelically as if the world never saw.
Thou art beauty, thou art divine.
Thou art seeping through the essence of time.
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