The Devil's Dance
It's the devil's dance, he is a chancer,
As he tries to take this life to cancer.
The news to fill your heart with dread,
As you, process words inside your head.
This news it brings a bitter sting,
The devil's joy that fate can bring.
He's a chancer bold in every way,
In truth, your thoughts, filled with dismay.
We face this news as laughter dies,
With a heavy heart and teary eyes.
The tears that run they stain our cheeks.
His vice like grip, the devil, speaks.
Your thoughts they turn to hope and fear,
This devil's waltz, so insincere.
As he leads and takes you by the hand,
Our teardrops fall in no-man's-land.
For though he leads you in a trance,
Transfixed within, this devils dance.
It's the fear of knowing the unknown,
A life once had is overthrown.
Leads up a path where no one plays,
It's dark and lonely passageways.
"Your life," he taunts a mocking cheer,
Is but a game, to draw you near!
I let him waltz and play his hand,
I'll find the strength to make a stand.
My life is worth more than his game.
Where angels fly I'll stake my claim.
Copyright ©
Sean Wilde
|