Hidden Dancer

January 10, 2009
By Leah Burdsall BRONZE, Clifton Heights, Pennsylvania
Leah Burdsall BRONZE, Clifton Heights, Pennsylvania
3 articles 0 photos 1 comment

A touch to scream for the fragile heart
Remnant shadows dissipate in the dark.
No doubt of the weak song, playing electric games
Throwing to me my unwanted fame.

I hope their's was a bloody wound
Fashioned chaotically just to prove
That every promise turned into a lie
And every purity broke way to an awful cry.

Convulse for me, my dying boy
My whisper will tear away your joy
And I hope for every nightmare of your face

Mine will be your dying place.

To realize in the cavern of death
A memory is all that is left.
The lovely bones you let slip away
Will haunt your lips till the apocalyptic day

There was a hidden dancer in her soul
That screamed for the lack of all control.
She gave away her pride, smiles and flesh
And fell before the throne's great test

Her sudden dance in the abyss
Hands to steal away the flaming wish
She fell into the shadows, he dove into the sun
Fading where it had all begun.

Their burning touch bruised away to scars
Drove them to insanity afar
For better, for worse, their ashes and dust
Will chip away to ancient rust

But time will pass and stars will melt
The convulsion is all the dancer felt
A memory to burn and rage
A bitter token, to live through every age.

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