The Lovers Dance

Copyright - 3/8/00
The Lover’s Dance

He leaps into a shroud of darkness
As he defies his abysmal counterpart
No light, no fear shall comfort him
Bonded by the blood that beats in him still
The pure blood of evil
The dismal blood of afterlife.

This overbearing Lord and black
Shroud suffocate his immortal thirst
No happiness, no love becomes him
Yet the thoughts and patterns concern him
The thoughts of intimacy
The forgotten thoughts of killing.

He runs through tomb after tomb
Searching for his longingly lost love
No life, no forgetfulness shall obey
He longs to suffer for his mate in battle
He suffers for her
He rudely suffers for life itself.

The intoxicating glow of his vibrant
Violet eyes seizing her captive glance
No sounds, no pity as he sweeps her
A lover’s dance of truth and honesty beguiles him
A dance of insight
A brutal dance of new life.

A lumbering 500 years past into
Darkened evil now made whole and bright
No beginnings, no ends to this dreadful mean
Her grasps turn to polite sighs and his heart swells still
Her gasps broken and unfounded
Her sighs grip his heart.

The potent but faint beating of
Her tiny heart quells his hunger
No outside world abated, no importance of glandular
She succumbs to his power and becomes the thirst
The thirst of love
The new thirst of life.

This overbearing Lord once so
Shrouded in utter insightful darkness
No emptiness, no time for love
Has now forgiven life and stepped forth into light
Into the light of love
Into the bleak light of a lover’s dance.