One last dance

Your staggered limp

Wobbling glare
Shockwave hair

I catch your thoughts in my web.

Thoughts I can not shake
Dreams I can not wake.

Waiting to devour.
Falling off this perceived cliff.

Here we stand alone.
History's flaming ledge.
Perceptions only pilgrims at birth.
Precariously perched atop the edge.

R A G E