Tip toe carefully down the never ending path
that twists and winds into the woods
littered with leaves of different hues
that fell from dead trees so high above.
But their golden figures make no sounds,
as your toes ghost over the tops of them
dancing down the path.

Searching for the end of the path,
getting lost in the deep dark woods,
and wondering why wandering is such a pleasant thing to do
yet so crippling as well.
The toes stop moving as loud sobs were heard,
they came from behind,
at the start of the path.

Don't go back lonely dancer
whose toes twitch towards the sound.
It was a choice to dance with death,
one that you couldn't turn down
since no one else would ever dance with you.
Don't float back over those golden leaves
they will turn brown.

But yet those toes turned away from the end
and back to the sounds where it all began,
and what the dancer saw they almost couldn't comprehend,
how could one person care so much for a failed friend?
One who had no grace in life,
who couldn't handle it,
who had to leave it all behind.

You stood on your toes to see around the bend, you leaned
just enough to see toes, connected to feet, connected to legs, connected to...
connected to... with a person kneeling, staring at the hanging form.
Run dancer run,
look at what you have done.
You can't go back, the past hurts you like it always does
all you can do is dance with death, alone again.

Calm, poised, point your toes, you failure!
The deadly mantra you had forgotten echoed in your head again
as your feet hit the ground,
tripping on sticks and brown leaves
and you fall down,
your body in agony,
dancing no more.