Death calls the “dance of death” to a ballroom filled with people,
They laugh and jest for this stranger speaks of a song they haven’t heard,
A girl fancies herself daring and joins Death, her hands mirroring a steeple,
Death allows the music to run long until lyrics blurred,
All eyes were on her,
She blossomed and turned and smiled and cried,
But in the room, people began to look different, even a most uncommon sir.
Some left through the door, a man or two, a woman, a few, died,
The girl grew tired, dizzy, deft, bereft,
Until she was without a friend, in a silent room, then let Death speak,
Death spoke simply but she didn’t understand where everyone had left,
Through the door, she followed and found them, all though different directions they went.
A limbo place she had been before and the dance a mark of time spent,
And so on she went and on they went for Death had danced with them all.
~ Written by Stephanie Kentepozidis