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The Dance
Dangling freely upon the hands of Death,
 The beautiful, lifeless baby doll
 Sways to the rhythm of her own
 Silent breath
 
 She  a piercing rope necklace
 Which bears all the sorrow and pain she kept
 
 Her eyes closed, as peaceful as can be
 She inhales the captivating scent
 Of a partner only she can see
 And the hurt from underneath is
 Finally set free
 
 Her soul no longer restless
 The mind ceases to be breathless
 The stunning doll can dance and sway
 In the comforting arms of Death.

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