still I dance

03/2013

ashes float upon a vile breeze

down streets of endless desolation

stretching the corridors of this dimension 

my eyes are sewn shut to it all

still I dance, holding onto hope

spinning around in the devastation

jumping over the mangled bodies

like a puppet on a string

my flesh jerks and contorts

with every whim, every fancy

I am lead down deeper

deeper into this wonderland

I have chosen to believe in

but the truth is that

I am a destroyer of my own world

I am a murderer of my own kind

Reviews

[Lydia Shutter]

While there is hope and light in this poem, there is also darkness. Your poetry expresses emotions eloquently. Incredible imagery in this one. Lydi**