Dance of Death

Zenith ~ a fatal lie written in forged gold, but to read the bruised ballads I’ve bled upon the palette of pixelated peridots in ominous silence, must I speak the romanticized rhymes of funeral roses? Perhaps then I’ll nestle in the crest of nothingness like a failed poet numb to the power of thorns… O embers of raven’s feathers, I feel the unseen heat of Hades’ wrath, burning the lucid mirage of sakura moon-glade, and my soul sways along the razor edge of a stainless sword, drunk on white-wine illusions, oblivious to the faceless phantoms mimicking Reaper’s requiem in spectral synchrony, summoning wings of dusk within my eclipsed heart, to soar as a fire-dragon kissed by blistering sins, as if ticking sparks of time did melt and merge with psychedelic coals, where I’ll rule as the mistress of Lucifer, hypnotized by the deceased daffodils… But I’m not lost. I crave perpetual peace away from the prying eyes of society that pushed me into a whirlpool of whirling insecurities, a maleficent maelstrom of trickery, dying for a searing sip of afterlife, where ashes of deceit will no longer suffocate the sleep that abandoned me like the splitting stars in my mind sprinkling scorching confetti upon fragile fields… O beloved, save me from the dance of death I long to taste the tears before the sunrise. I am frozen, like an insomniac gasping for love, reaching for tender twilight in a tortured tomb of cryptic tulips, weaving my heartbeat across your horizon, pondering in elegies: If I were thunder’s sigh, and you, the timeless starlight… Why do lifelines still unravel your love in soft, velvety cadence? For amidst jinxed lakes between us, this soul, r e m a i n s achingly tied to your elusive heart…