Dance of the Damned

In fits of throws and throws of passion the damned do dance their own

A hallowed cry of pain for the cause of free laughter to the core of a broken soul

The melody of a twisted harp harks the angel’s words of a foreboding step

A twist of fiery rage slips in with the twirl of reckless intent

So may we dance in throws of fits and passion fuelled fits

The music hath long stopped playing and we wish not to see our deaths

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