In the matchless dance of life,
There is discernment of death,
A quieting where once was
The thrill of intense pursuit,
The barbed wires of our being
Held taut at either end
Blossoms even as it quivers
Within the music of our souls,
Behind the wire dreams expire,
Strangled and congealed ...
in the mire of choked lives ..
and hopes and dreams
...
The dance goes on,
Tempo alters but not the melody ...
Thorns and roses entwine ...
In destined harmony