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Writer's pictureAidan Bernstein-Lundy

Desire's Dance











In the time of midnight dreams, where nothing is quite as it seems,

There grows a hunger, a yearning deep, a secret the heart forever keeps.

Beneath the skin, it grows. Festering, noxious, yet on it goes

 

It’s voice, a melody on the breeze, a tune that could bring me to my knees

Their laughter, like an echo in the night, a beacon of elusive light

For Love, my heart does ache and burn, yet around every corner it seems to turn.

 

A longing steeped in silent tears, a Love that's whispered through the years,

A wish upon a dying ember, cold yet fierce like sweet December.

An absence, a void, I’ve lost control, a haunting echo in my soul.

 

In every face, in every guise, a search for the warmth of Love’s caring eyes,

In crowds, in silence, in the night's embrace, phantom traces I choose to chase,

A distant dream, a hope that's vain, the sweetest joy, the deepest pain.

 

In dreaming, there's a loneliness, a silent, echoing abyss.

This is the dance of Desire's play, a ballad of longing, night and day,

A yearning for what can't be had, a truth, melancholy and sad.


Midnights lead down a sunken path, obsession leads to Cupid’s wrath,

So meet me at the graveyard where worn-out hearts belong, and at my tombstone shall I sit, singing a solitary song.

Desire reaps, Desire sows, Desire plucks the thorniest rose.

It draws you in, It traps you, makes you never want to leave. But in your heart of hearts you know, in Love you still believe.


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