These scars upon me, are part of a story, about the time I danced with death,
I took his outstretched hand and he swore to take away my breath
With brilliant twisted tempo, his feet moved in time with mine,
Against his body, he smelt like sweet poison and whispered "my dear you are divine"
He vowed to give me purpose, promised he wouldn't leave my side, people will remember he laughed "the girl I took as mine"
"Do not blame yourself" he soothed "your heart was far too weak"
I will give you a beautiful end and grant the release you seek
My mind grew very weary but my heart would fight once more
I said "I cannot let you win dear death, it's time to end this war"
Through battles I escaped him, these scars my living proof
He still craves the life I promised him and vows to one day be my noose
So as you look upon my scars, it is not shame I feel
But pride that though I danced with death, I prevailed and did not yield