I am moved by the coming of the new day sun and howling winds accommodating my sinister wiles. Sensual fanfares my wayfaring ways. Raising my brow of long whiles ago past my passing breath, and composing pen. As in spirit, I am now cast in pales of gray, romancing my lovely Drusilla as she dances beneath the chandeliers and dust motes falling, to silent harps and violins. Open position with a shadow and smile with jealousy wishing I thrived alive and kisses for my lovely Drusilla. At the light of dawn peeking in tattered drapes of our dancing of years ago past. Her curtsies into shadows catching my dead eyes, a howling winds accommodating sinister my wiles of a ghost in the ballroom dancing with my host and me alone with her at last, romancing my lovely Drusilla.