Danse Macabre

Too much was lost in silence

too long the time that winds

between our words of love and passion

with communion only in our minds

 

Too much assumed in union

of our two souls' mute desires

but I did not see her inmost needs

or hear how quietly pain suspires

 

I should have peeped inside

while she nightly dreamed in peace

to glimpse her mind's apparel

as it danced its silent slow release

 

I should have explored her mind

when she slept in our famous bed

but selfishly I rested too

and never saw it dressed in hellish red

 

What should I have there espied

far below each day's loving view

those crimson twisting shrouds

half smothering the love that grew

 

When I once had time enough to spare

I failed to read her deepest core

to see the power of cruel invasion

reach past love to that darker shore

communicationforesightillnesslovetimeunderstanding

◄ Winter from a Window

Passing Fashions ►

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