Death Waltz
Author: David -Doc- Byron


Suspended in moonlight,
a museum of death,
a skeletal mambo,
cold icy breath.
Corpses slow dance,
among the headstones,
the music the peeling of flesh,
the grinding of bones.
Disembodied feet,
pound cold hard stone,
a moldy grave,
the prom Queen's throne.
She'll dance with her King,
til there's no darkness left,
her partner in eternity,
in the waltz of death.


Comments on this poem/writing:

nikki ( -- Tuesday, March 9 2004, 11:01 pm


this poem is wonderful and disturbing at the same time! pure genious
rain ( -- Friday, August 12 2005, 05:00 am


very nice, well rhymed
Name:                                           Remember Me

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