A Dance In the Dark
He was her dance in the dark
that never got past the stroke of midnight,
both shared moon's light
yet, never did he leave
the empty corridors
in her mind
grief of days swept into years
which she could never seem to shake
heart's lonely ache
as they twirled round and round
when she closed her eyes
She wondered if his heart, like hers
was bound to that moment in time
love in its prime
torn from two; much too soon
now only memories of what was
She sat by the window, staring down the lonely drive
grey hair shaped around her face
a soft light filled the place
she held out her hand for the man she mourned for
gently he took hold and wisped her through the door
She arrived at sixteen in this home of misplaced minds
no name of which she could recall
nor who she was at all
The car wreck she was pulled from
left the driver dead
no more words were said
while she danced in the dark
Copyright © Regina Branham | Year Posted 2013
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