THE SONG

This is a poem said by a very sad woman who lost the love of her life and dance partner at the same time. She became slightly insane because of this, having all these illusions every night.

T’was the song, the only thing that reminded me of him,

T’was the song, the song we always danced to when we felt like dancing.

It’s the only song, the only thing left in my mind,

And when I hear it from nowhere, it’s him whom I find.

 

At night, solitary night, as I lay my head on the pillow soft as feather,

I listen to the ivories oddly being played from nowhere.

Then I see him come out of the darkness, reaching out his hand for mine,

Asking me if I would dance with him for another time.

 

I grip his hand so tightly and on his warm chest I press my forehead,

Swearing myself that he will never have to leave like he did before again.

He whispers to my ear he’ll be here every night, every single night,

And I cry silently and desperately, wishing he was always here to hold me tight.

 

But as we take each step the music becomes distasteful,

And I feel his ashy palms become frail and brittle.

I always try to hold it firmly but it just becomes worse.

So I cry and I stare at his blank eyes ‘til he turns into dirt.

 

There it is again, this moment of hatred and tears,

This moment that shows up every night and keeps haunting me,

Telling me he’s nothing but a ghost; he’s been nothing since he died in the fire,

And that he’s never coming back "this thought that always brought me to ire.

T’was the song, the only truth that reminded me of him,

T’was the song, the song we always danced to when we felt like dancing.

This may keep repeating forever, and he may turn into ash every night,

But I will still dance into dust for as long as he’s by my side.

Author's Note

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