I wandered through the ballroom
Shadows playing on the silver walls
And candlelight flickering like the souls
Of young lovers gone before their time
The dancers swayed and floated
Over the floor which now seemed so far away
Their ethereal gowns trailing
Through the fragrant, breathless air
Some had burning eyes
The fire of their passion
Even Death could not quench
Like burning roses set in translucent marble
And the eyes of others were cold and grey
Time had broken them
Age had dimmed them
And Life had left them
Now but a shade of what once was
A forgotten memory of youthful love
They swirled around me
Like wind around a tree
But they seemed not to see me
So entranced were they
In their sweet madman's dream
All save one, who stood,
Silent and watchful, before me
Enshrouded in robes of black and red, violet and gold
Glowing with an otherworldly light
For was this not another world altogether?
His eyes, cold as the Reaper's lifeless breath
Yet burning with a rose-red flame
Locked with mine, and he smiled
He was beautiful, and terrible
And he drew me closer, closer, ever closer
Inviting me to lose myself
In the perilous webs he had woven around me
Until we touched, and his hands
Were soft as silken velvet
Yet stern, stern and cold
Not to be denied what they sought
And then I knew
I knew who he was
He was Death--in all his terrible beauty
The spinner of the thread
The keeper of the hourglass
The wielder of the sword
But I would not leave him
Not even if I could
I feared him, but I loved him
I loved him with a fire I had never felt before
And I vowed in my heart to go with him
To tread the shadowy halls of the world beyond
Until eternity itself should fade to dust
His voice at once sweet and frightening
Like the music of angels
And the last breath of the dead
"Will you dance?" Death asked me
"I will dance," I said.
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125,018 Literary Works • 672,861 Reviews
I'm not in the poetry section much, so I don't know how much help I can be here. From what I read, this was very good. Vivid, and such. (Like I said, I'm more of a prose person)
Two things that really caught my eyes were: The lack of basic punctuation such as periods. You have some commas, but still. This can't be one sentence, can it?
And the title. Danse Macabre. I love it, and it fits the concept. I only caught my eye because I see it all the time.
Sorry I couldn't be of much help, but good work. If you post prose sometime, by any change, send me a PM, I would love to read it.
-JC
There's something about this line that gets me. I think it's the fact that you started off very elusively and almost romantically, then at the end slapped us with a fish - that is, the "moral" or "motif" of this section. Be consistent. If one part is surreal, then either make everything surreal or have a smooth transition in between.
Once again, you over-embellish the point of the poem by proving it so blatantly and early on. Don't mention Death, but refer to him as the silent watcher from the corner or the aristocrat at the hem of the ballroom steps, looking down upon his dancers but not daring to put his feet on the room's floor. It distances Death from the situation and thus gives the meaning of the piece with a flair.
I...this...
is perfection. Haunting, melodious, grave, and at the same time offer of a hope that exists just beyond those paraplegic flames, stricken though their own idealistic dances. A lover torn by love who finds her abusive nature within the confines of the black cloak and scythe. This spoke to me in volumes and I could not find any problem with it save for the repetition of Death's attributes, which were effective at first and then began to get over-repetitive. The fact that I have to point out such a shallow observation brings to bait the fluidity of your poetry and the way in which the subtle triumphs the real. Keep writing; please keep writing. The world needs more of this.