Desdemona

Each word she writes a gentle explosion  
Rage, sorrow and laughter in equal measure  
The fear does appear there and here  
But its creeping aspect strapped to the table  
And dissected  
It's components discussed, losing their secrecy  
Later, her ire appears in metaphoric fire  
Those flames leaping, shadows cornered on the walls  
Tragedy to those she scrutinizes  
Traitors exposed to the naked, dangling bulb  
Embarrassed to be still alive  
As for the melancholy, a veil, finally lifted  
This lady in black placing a rose  
Then departing through the wrought iron gate  
Which then swings shut with a kiss  
She returns to the chateau  
Where laughter can be heard in every chamber  
Mad delight whirling out of control  
Selected guests in their erotic element  
Paying her tribute with each crescendo  
Their laughter rising to the rafters  
And echoing down the hall  
Where she lays down in luxury  
Listening in the dark.