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Untitled 121

The Black Swan enchants the funeral march Dancing on a mirror I stand and watch from the mire She is elegance and grace The White Swan dispels the misery With arrogance dire He spreads his wings And unfurls his lies He speaks of heaven and paradise Whilst black feathers condemned To brimstone and hellfire For death is evil But the Black Swan She dances on The natural course of life Is unto death, after all I step onto the lake Sinking into the aching feelings With mud and water at my ankles I stare out into the abyss The swans dance Like ballerinas Eternal And I break the mirror Clean, pristine and without error The still water breaks Ripples and ripples Natural discordance in the halcylon realm I turn my back On the funeral march The dreary procession Ignoring black wings I turn myself Onto the dancer before me She smiles, serene, And offers condolences The Black Swan And the White Swan Continue their dance And I continue my staring
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Written by
bibliomancie
23 / F / Australia
Published
Jul 3, 2018
Lines·Words
49·170
Tags
#swans#death#mourning#grief#water#myself
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