Thousands of hands reaching.
Thousands of eyes staring.
Thousands of lights shining.
All focused on us.
I ask you for the last dance.
Those eyes watched on in horror.
We spin in gentle swirls of color,
The blazing spotlights following our every step,
The blurring burning beams fending off those approaching.
No one may stand to interfere.
Each twirl drawing lines of crimson,
Each smile a story forever untold,
Each harmony a lie hidden with blades,
Every tear an insignificant ripple in the waves.
The ocean created to devour emotions.
The audience filled with secretive murmurs.
Hidden faces radiating amusement.
Sharp cries for help drowned out with music.
Retribution brewing in bruised hearts.
The Dance of Death continues undisturbed.
I could feel the acid on my skin,
I could see the blurring of my eyes,
My balance wavering between regret and satisfaction.
I take the final bow as the guillotine blade screeches down.
YOU ARE READING
Beyond that Skyline | Poetry
PoetryA short collection of sad poems from the minds of broken souls trapped in today's reality. A story about mental health told by the voices in my head.
