He murmurs to the people:

Her eyes looked like
Broken chandeliers
As she viciously fed
Upon the crystalline twilight...

(The ballroom was drenched
crimson silk, they waltzed
with fever as the dusk melted
with pallid blue moonlight.)

Pure as silver ore,
The night marveled
At its reflection
in his eyes.

Jaded dreams smothered
With the faint sounds
Of what seems to be
Angels in prose...

(His ivory hands,
held her heart,
and she was not afraid)

...I am encumbered in
this night, and the cautious
warmth of his arms.

Bleeding for you in
The garden of comfort
that grows wild with the
Atonement of your insanity...

I am yours.

While the slaughter of
candles burning
acquiesces with the sighs
of lovers, (with lips so
sweet), only their eyes
could be seen reflected
in the marble floor.


He then professes the song--
that he kept hidden,
the song of a
crestfallen
rogue.

My sweetly dark
rogue,
you are what kept
me alive--

(and as they were dancing,
her scarlet gown twirling
like a delicate silken ferris wheel,
he let go of her hand...)

-and then she bled.-

He murmured to the people:

Her eyes looked like
broken chandeliers...

...her face resembled
shattered windows.

a torn cherub--

--that lay ever so still
amongst the nearby
candles, crying wax
at the forlorn sight.

That was the last time I saw her.

(she looked just as tragic, even without breath.)

With the cameras flashing and
his coattails swaying gracefully with his
bastard tears....she whispers;

*I never thought he would let go.*