The Lord of His Dance

Not long to go now
until your notes fade from his ear.
The unspeakable, blemishless promises you made
that gave his heart a kickstart,
set it singing with all the voices of a symphony–
they were all yours.

Beautiful, soothing, he called you,
but the mad pace of his dance
found you partnered with comparison
and then with counsel out of mad desperation.

There were days you knew that were it not for them
you would be unwelcome.
But yet–
just as often you were sure a secret audience watched,
breath held,
waiting for you to spin and twirl and pirouette
until you set the floor alight and polished an incomparable ending.

You never will, though,
and the graceful shuffle of your intertwined lives
will lose its motion–it is like a waltz
for the deaf, played on an untuned violin.

I've been watching this dance of yours,
and let me tell you–it ends poorly
for the both of you–

I'm the Lord of his dance.


The Lord of Her Dance

Not long to go now
until your notes fade from her ear.
The unspeakable, blemishless promises you made
that gave her heart a kickstart,
set it singing with all the voices of a symphony–
they were all yours.

Beautiful, soothing, she called you,
but the mad pace of her dance
found you partnered with comparison
and then with counsel out of mad desperation.

There were days you knew that were it not for them
you would be unwelcome.
But yet–
just as often you were sure a secret audience watched,
breath held,
waiting for you to spin and twirl and pirouette
until you set the floor alight and polished an incomparable ending.

You never will, though,
and the graceful shuffle of your intertwined lives
will lose its motion–it is like a waltz
for the deaf, played on an untuned violin.

I've been watching this dance of yours,
and let me tell you–it ends poorly
for the both of you–

I'm the Lord of her dance.