(no subject)
sIlent screams still echo the long cold corridor. Where there once was a ripe passionate blood pouring down the cement walls now held empty picture frames and broken glass. The ivory piano in the guest bedroom still sang with the same unique gasping of notes, yet the song sang was now a different tune. Ghostly shadows dance upon the ceiling with angels whose eyes never leave them. War drums keep beat for each step we take into the darkness. The memory remains, as does the thick smell of lust and love lost. Moths have chewed deep into her once elegant ebony gown that stood in the closet brokenhearted and unsure of itself. Ball step change. Swirl and curtzy. An empty ballroom with broken tiles remains stained with memories of masquarade that took her life. Dead and alone, I remain to harden her memory in the hearts of millions. Who she was will never be forgotten. A black rose is legend, but i have seen the most beautiful black rose of all, and I have held her in my arms and dance though the castle. She was my truth, and your fable.