With each elegant step i near him in my gown shimmering in the color of the night. He doesnt notice since he is looking down, his dark appearence comlipments the moonlight. I crave him more with each taken move, the closeness to him feels so painful yet so soothe. He turns to me and i grab his hands, pulling him to the centre of the ballroom for my very last dance.
His eyes so mysterious- so dark and divine. His hands so boney, his cold breath slowing down mine. We circle trough the hall, pulling him closer, hoping i'll fall. We move to the flow, so gentle and divine, my hands becoming numb and my eyes lost their shine. With all the memories slowly flying by, i want to dance 'til i finally die.
My hands getting weak, he frees himself "your time hasn't come, moonlight. Not yet." He backs away, dissapearing into the night.
I guess i live, atleast tonight.
YOU ARE READING
The thoughts of moonlight
PoetryAll the feelings of the night, flowing from word to word like a sad song. And i dance to that song on the edge of living, wondering which move will push me over and free me of my pain.
