A step of the toe,
To and fro,
A tap to the beat,
A movement of the feet.
A dance amidst a ballroom,
Can be done between bride and groom,
A mixture of passion and rhythm it be,
A lusty romance between you and me.
To and fro, you sway me so,
Elegantly upon the floor,
But, I, in silence, swoon for thee,
The one who wouldn't let me be.
Wallflower adorning the wall,
Oblivious to the thrall,
Of the people toe to toe within the room,
I brought palm to forehead and prayed for it to end soon.
A palm met mine and begged for more,
Cold and black, it led me to the floor,
What was this thing hiding behind a mask?
It bore a grin and danced its task.
It had chosen the wallflower, of all that existed,
Perhaps by surprise, or otherwise, I had not resisted.
To dance the dance amidst this being,
Its arms had shrouded, my, what a feeling.
Its feet were so light, it appeared to float,
Or perhaps that was just me, digress my gloat,
So ornately and with such little caution,
If I was to be so bold, I'd call it 'a master of contortion.'
Soon enough, the music fell to a stop,
But, upon the floor, it did not drop,
Instead, it brought fingertip to chin,
Lifted my gaze, once more I saw that grin.
The cold lips, so callous and worn,
Were brought abruptly to my own,
I shuddered and shyed,
It followed, I swore I could've died.
After that, it backed away,
Shunned a wave and simply walked astray,
I shot a glare, like daggers upon its back,
'How dare you make me want to follow thyne tracks.'
'Do not follow mine.' its voice, dreaded and clear,
'Your path would be treacherous, my darling, dear.'
'For you follow the forbidden path,'
'Amidst the immortal, the monster, affirmed in wrath.'
