The Dancer

Hiding in the shadows is a
beauty lost in the painful disarray,
a ballet of death.

She falls into the silken abyss,
cutting her flesh on Raven feathers,
soft and sharp.

Greedy hands of skeletal shadows
tug on her limbs and hair,
yanking her this way and that.

In the most honest of lies
the skeletal lips now whisper dark,
but sweet nothings.

Their venom is sweet as honey.

The curtains drop, ending the show,
though the ballet lives on,
performing forever.

She will never be free of it,
for the darkness corrupts her mind.

She died long ago,
held in the cold arms of dead angels..