THE THIEF

Stealing softly in the night
He comes to pilfer her dreams.
Slowly eroding her ethereal might
While feasting upon castled schemes.

Nourishment comes from taking
That which never could be his.
In his devouring, tis her unmaking,
And upon which his countenance lives.

Hushed and murmured is her breath
While escaping; dreams gently beat
Into his talons, she move ne'er to death;
Until her soul he owns; complete.

He sneaks to her slumbering side,
With lips that met hers once in bliss.
Now but fangs of Chaos's bride
Removing her salvation with a kiss.

As he draws in her exhalation
Filled with glee at her demise.
Holds exquisite his exhilaration
Viewed with her hackneyed eyes.

Retribution glimpsed upon his face
As the last ebbing hope does scream.
He knows he holds her to her place,
As he devours her heart and her dream.

As she fades into oblivion's hand,
She knows the mistake she had made.
To have let him into her hope-filled land,
Her essence he has now way-laid.

How many nights? How many rhymes
In which she vowed e'er to leave?
How many lost Dreams? How much lost time?
Only death shall be her reprieve.

Mourn not her loss my stalwart friend;
Advance thy Vision's banner proud.
This is not her final end
For in your dreams again she'll sing aloud!
Copyright Dancers, Inc. 1997