Ghosts In a Ballroom

Inside an empty and abandoned ballroom of a massive sunken ship, Ghosts waltz within the memories made before the ship had tipped. Swirling in pairs of males and females with arms locked in languid rhythm, 'Neath hanging chandeliers of Waterford crystals refracting rainbow prisms. Coruscating candles in flickering sconces simmer in shadows upon the wall, Illuminating penumbral pieces in that which the dark creeps with its crooked crawl. The wealthy phantoms spin in apathetic jubilant jives and graceful glee, Unaware of the locks of shackles and chains in the lack of life that's ceased to be. Before death we dance in spinning circles suspended in thin air, But after, we dance in spinning circles suspended without a care. For we're but the shells of ghosts in a ballroom, Dancing in the darkened light, Spun around an end that forever looms, Within a day that's dreamt at night.