The Dance

Everyday,
Everyday I escape Death’s butterfly smooth grip;
Is this what unrequited love truly is?
Perhaps, if you can even call this love.

I am forever in a tango with the world.
Dancing and swaying along with Death
Awaiting for the moment the music stops.

I am not scared as most people are,
Of the end of their song; of their dance;
I stay, loving every step and twirl of the dance
And tired all the same.

People dance and laugh and love Life,
And she is who they choose to dance with
Although they all must rest in Death’s lifeless arms,
Once their dance with Life has ended.

They scream and cry and sob.
Wanting and yearning and missing Life
They love her blindly, not seeing who she is;
And some see how she is and love her regardless.
Maybe that is pure love?

But, not I.
I do not choose to dance with Life;
Instead I dance with Death.

She does not harm, she only takes.
She takes those that you love after their dances;
But you know they are well cared for.
But, you do not pause to think.

Death does not stop the music she doesn’t cut it abrupt;
Only Life does.

Death does not rip you away from Life’s arms;
Life tosses you away.

Death does not step on your toes during the dance;
Life does.


Death only takes you away from the mistreatment of Life.
And yet Death is always to blame?

She shows you unconditional love;
A place for you to rest your worn feet
And close your watery eyes
She gives worth to what you love

And alas she evades me
Time and time again I come to her
And I say, I am tired and my feet are worn

And again
Time and time again she moves to let Life catch me
She says, Your music is still playing; it is still your turn to dance

Still I yearn for the rest of Death from the abuse of Life
But she is right.

My dance is not over.