The Last Waltz

Dance with the macabre.......

 

 

The Last Waltz

 

Seduced I am by the face of vanity and disfigurement, my

jaw shattered from the {BONDAGE}

of our osculation, my

mouth leeched by sharpened tongue exhausted in salutation.

You play my ribs as if I were the

=strings= on your cello,

but these bones crumble as you strum

higher and higher, my

voice and screams you use to orchestrate Death's choir. 

 

Our diaphragms making love in perverse disagreement, I

ask thee to have mercy on my soul that begs to breathe.

I know your cadaverous mind can see

and hear me, but

instead, you stifle my vitality, ignoring each and every plea.  

 

What provokes you to graze in my dismantled flesh?

Is it the promenade between my stomach and breast, or

do you crave the vigor that hides within 

my open chest?

I waltz with you in servitude and as a willing sacrifice, you

take the lead with every step, twitch,

and pulsating beat.

Catching me as I sway, arching my back, and vertebrae,

bleeding jewel-like rubies, adorning my fears from yesterday.

 

Sweeping me around the tempest void that shadows song.

You devour what is left; I feel no pain......

I feel no wrong.

Author's Note

Artist.......Michael Hussar

Reviews

[J.V. Stanley]

Hauntingly seductive, the words play well upon my ear as I read it aloud. Feels like love torn apart and the empty shells, skeletons remain playing to each other still with the devouring love and that power that holds upon the woman. It seems as though the male figure has a sort of power over the female counterpart within this piece and how weak and vulnerable she is to the seductive techniques used by the male figure.

Our diaphragms making love in perverse disagreement, I
ask thee to have mercy on my soul that begs to breathe.

These lines cause me to imagine an argument between two lovers who constantly seem to quarrel and no matter how much the female in this piece begs for reprieve, none is given ultimately ending with-

You devour what is left; I feel no pain......
I feel no wrong.

in essence succumbing to the fact that he had won, yet inside is strongly convinced of her rightness but no longer willing to argue about it. At least this is how I interpreted the poem. Ultimately its an amazing piece of work, quite amazing in its structure. I have a fascination with dark poetry such as this. Definitely going into my favorites. I had to reread it about five times and enjoyed it more and more with each read :)

[Electric Scribe]

Ummmmmmm. I don’t know what to say about this. It is beautifully written. I am terrified by it, intrigued, turned on, disgusted, and envious. Don't know if you ever intended on being a mind ninja, but good job, you snuck in and crossed the streams.

[Muse]

I took it as a personal challenge to blend macabre with erotica

[Electric Scribe]

Looks like challenge dominated.

[Rocans]

I always particularly enjoy musical analogies that I employ a lot in my own poems. This was very well put together...dark and beautiful. The last lines were like a crescendo to your poetic symphony. From "I waltz with you in servitude"...epic stuff.

[Muse]

thank you...

[Rocans]

You are indeed welcome

[Writer #00]

Hm... why am I reminded of Sadistic x Masochistic relationships?

marrow/100

[Muse]

sadistic? maybe...

but thank you.

[Writer #00]

Thou art welcome...I suppose.

[quinfinn]

terrifying, gorgeous, seductive and haunting...this is a mental masterpiece!~

[Muse]

interesting..

mental masterpiece...yes I think I pushed my limits on this one. I don't think I've been able to top this write...it raised the bar for me.

[quinfinn]

the thought that went into this creation is mind boggling, hence...mental masterpiece. you'll write this well again, trust your feelings.

[Muse]

I'm sure that as an artist...you have that one writing, that you have been trying to top...but cannot?

[Phantom.Bite]

"Sweeping me around the tempest void that shadows song....I feel no wrong." That is really powerful :)

[angelina neves]

well done terrible dance!

[KeeD]

mouth leeched by sharpened tongue exhausted in salutation... "pants for air"
You play my ribs as if I were the
=strings= on your cello, *I'm in love with this imagery*
instead, you stifle my vitality, ignoring each and every plea. "The Stamina of this poem shall never fade out" it is excellence.
This is such a tasteful.. dark...haunting poem
Masterpiece.. Muse this is brilliant, and the picture, props to the artist and you for picking it, the synergy of the picture and the poem is flawless.

[Muse]

thank you Keegan...and yes, this poem will always be an example of sharing the rawest part of me. xo

[Veronica Chandler]

I found myself under your spell; I was glued and in a trance as I made my way through your horrific tale of carnage. Truly, beautifully, frightening.

[Muse]

I wanted to see if I could make the macabre romantic. ;)

[Veronica Chandler]

In my book you succeeded!

[Helen Crutchett]

This was certainly a "dance with the macabre". A chilling, spine shivering write, leaving one with the horrors and shudders!

[The 13th Eros]

Cadaverous cravings don't become you, sweet soul. Yet, one can sense the desire to be numb when life sends us horrid and haggard days. There is no anesthetic to the darkest of depression... being detached can be the most beautiful response when demons dance with you.