By Digital Dart
The stage has been set, so ancient.
Covered in cobwebs as the curtain's pulled,
The skeleton in the limelight is slowly growing flesh before your eyes, death fading.
Bony hands grasping.
Breath drudgingly drawn into blackened lungs, coughing dust.
Decayed happiness regenerating the dark violet glow of it's soul which,
Slowly disappears as it becomes whole and 'it' becomes 'he'.
Skin getting flush, eyes a pale icy blue locked onto your own.
Outstretched fingers running through hair falling around shoulders freed from despair.
The weight lifting is almost tangible as you stare.
The show will never be over now.
The bow never to be taken.
The life eternal.
The love a flame that all the sad rain in the world could never extinguish