The Dancer

She walks on the shore of a crimson ocean the cruel suns dying rays of
light reaching out to the horizon as far as it can while sinking slowly
under the distant peaks of the beyond.

Sulking clouds roll out above his descent like a shroud. While the moon
she hangs like a sad portrait blood read in the water half emerged as
she bled. Soft wind whispers in my head an ancient story of a time far
gone.

A time of purity and truth. The wind tugs at her tattered dress while
she dances between  a tremendous column of scarlet fire. Singing a
syren's song  in a low strange voice beckoning me to my inevitable doom.

For she comes to gather up every spirit that is pure and weave him into
her vesture of flame. A soul hers to claim. She licks up their lives
their soul sparkling from their eyes. Shes a mighty sorceress, the lust
of the flesh that devours the soul of man. And by her dancing she plans
to gather for her mother nuit the heads of them who drink from the
rivers of the waters of life. She draws me ever closer.

I am terrified yet transfixed. But i know in my heart i must escape.... 1 day.

but for now we shall dance the night away. never wondering what we'll have to pay...