The music plays and,
We waltz.
The band strikes up a march and,
We fight.
The cymbals clash.
The trumpets sound.
The violins crescendo.
Then silence.
Pure unaltered black.
We cannot turn,
We cannot feel,
There is no going back.
Brassy,
Frigid,
Frozen,
Wind cuts the skin.
Wonder-lust lost,
To a stunning reality of,
Icy steel dipped into purest gold,
Masking the harsh cold.
Dulcet feathers,
Coating hope.
Tears come fast.
Silky and tepid.
The seven wonders of the world,
Crushed into a dusty powder,
And swept away.
Out of sight.
Out of mind.
The pitter patter rain.
Smiles born again.
Expecting all,
And receiving nothing.
