Dancing in a golden field,
Tan stalks sway to and fro as a frame.
Musicians play waltzing melodies,
A medieval ball outside of halls.
Gowns that trail along,
Colors dark and bright.
Modern day tuxes all in black.
The swishing of the dresses,
The pleasant chatter—
Mixes with song:
Violins . . .
Clarinets . . .
Soft singing . . .
All a peaceful harmony.
The coming of night air,
Whispers in the twilight,
With the red sun sinking down
And the silver moon rising.
Colors swirl around me,
My partner murmurs in my ear,
Hot breath blowing on my pale neck.
My eyes catch a glimpse of a figure,
Standing in the lone barren tree
In the centre of the crowd,
Luring me closer with his stare.
We swirl and circle,
Closer and closer—
My eyes never moving from
The shadow amongst the dying kindling
High above me.
I see nothing but what is there,
None of my surrounding,
Nor the sky,
Are in my sight.
We gravitate towards
The rough brown tower,
The dark man draws me closer,
With his gaze.
Red drops drip, drip
In crimson tears
From the boughs.
Blood rains on me softly,
Ruby stains on my skin.
My body shudders,
And I awaken again.
