Dance of the Dead

The dance of the dead is calling to me.

The music is so enchanting that I seem not to mind the joyousness that I would leave behind.

The utter restlessness I always feel seems to be pleased with the dance of the dead.

The drum’s dreary rhythm seems to overcome my heart and ransoms my soul for a state of euphoria.
Like a star above, prisoner and lover of night,
I am left suspended in time- neverendingly numb.

With a whirlwind of emotion, I am trapped in the beat.

Locked away from the world. 

Lost in another dimension.

Slowly, the music enraptures my body devouring all my false implications.

It opens my eyes to that of the purest beauty beheld by the world.

Some events caused by sin seem to withhold some consecrated vows unknown to living souls.

Unknown to those breathing,
the dance of the dead is a never-ending invitation to the final frontier.

The rhythm is the key. 

Fascination is the method. 

You stand before ready to unlock the door.

The event is the ending unwinding to an entirely new beginning of eternity.

The rest is left open to what you desire.

All that remains is open and untouched by the enchanted dance of the dead.

©2012 Elizabeth Rockhill