Let me dance with you tonight,
until arrives the break of morn.
Let us forget this broken world,
so ruined and left all forlorn.
When morning comes, 'twill have to pull
our clinging, dancing forms apart,
and even then, we'll fight on still,
for we'll be dancing in our heart.
Let the streetlight show our way,
bearing witness to us here.
Curse, but dawn is coming soon:
e'en now first light is drawing near.
But still we'll dance 'til it arrives,
be there deep snows or driving rain.
We'll keep on dancing on, my love,
until the bombs start up again.
Now with the rise of cruel mornlight,
your pale form fades and vanishes,
as I too start to disappear:
the scourge of war all banishes.
But hear my calling voice, my love,
above the guns and rockets' roar:
again the bombs shall cease tonight,
and you and I shall dance once more.
-D.B.
Author notes
Well, I know this really isn't one of my better poems; the rhyme scheme isn't very imaginitive, and my word choice is pretty limited, but eh. Ah well. I tried, eh?
Daniel
