The Last to Dance
June 3, 2006
His hand softly caresses my cheek;
I never knew my knees could have ever been so weak
"It is but a shadow and a thought that you love," he speaks
But all I can hear is the painful ripping of my heart, as it slowly begins to break
My eyes darken as I recall
the day now which seems so long ago
that I first beheld this man;
the man I thought my heart would hold
The temptation to hold that blade overtook me that day;
And soon I was practicing lightly,
When the crossing of another's path did the blade then stop,
To the deflection of my practice blow,
to the elven knife of his hand
Speechless was my tongue when my eyes saw he
When soon questioned of my use of a blade;
I answered with the same passion as of earlier times,
But not disdainful was this man's reply,
when hearing of the past woman's life
My mind stood still in utter shock,
But the only task that I could complete
Was to concentrate on the hollow of my breathing,
And the awakening of the ever want shaking me
The fears I own were then honestly wondered,
And when "A cage," seemed the single fitting reply,
He appeared to look deep into the soul within me,
And with the words of one of great understanding,
Reassured with "You are a daughter of kings...I do not think that will be your fate."
Never, in all of my being,
have words of such plain meaning
had a more depth then when spoken
through the mouth of that person...
I desired with all of the corners of my life...
...to take this love...
...to hold this eternal bliss...
...and to know that just for once...
...I am not the last to dance.