Are you scared. Come take my hand, darling. We shall prance through streets, as you move in delicate posture, and movement. Twirling you round-and-round, your soft, beautiful, black hair whipping back from your shoulders, and tossing side, from side. The beautiful black gown flowing in an intricate pattern, the lovely cuffs kissing your hands, and the dress, draping heavenly over your feet. And the neck piece held peacefully against your throat. Your light-pale skin flushing wonderfully, and your dark eyes glowing bright, your soft, gentle touch caressing against my hands, the pleasant, and careful step of each movement. And the blackly painted fingernails glooming in the darkness. Let us dance in the ash-ridden air of the smoldering buildings of forgotten time, as the thoughts of recent past, shatter to shards right before your soul. Come here, from out of the shadows, and let me see who you really are. I'm sure you can trust an old friend. One who has pulled you through the darkness, kicking and screaming. But in the end, you had thanked me. The scars still live through you, as your mind collapses inside solid bars. I have the key to make you free, but first you got to do something for me, and in the end you shall see, what you shall need of me. Just a small gesture that can go a long way, if you shall say okay. It will be done by the end of the day, love. You shall feel more beautiful than a dove, flying high in the sky, in the wee hours of the day, can you say. As we dance in the middle of May, the ash falling around, stepping back and forth between movements, circling. Making our tracks in the gray snow all around us, and in the distance, the looming light of smoldering, tract buildings, of time. It is so bright. The dawn draws nigh, in the midnight sky. Slinging you back and forth, pressing you against me, and back out in fashionable movement. And evil. Looking at you with admirable taste. Your cuffs soaked into blood. The blood that covers your dress. A pale cherry red color painting your skin. And the blood droplets pressing against, your such precious face. Take my hand, and I shall show you just how deep this rabbit hole goes, as we twirl under the skies of the slain souls of the world, as the distant smoke drifts into the air, and is soaked in by the clouds. Don't waste your time trying to see, which you can't understand, just accept what you see, and make the most of what you have, because it may be your last. You shall become lost inside this world of unfamiliar thought, defining, and confining. Becoming only more unreal. Lose yourself tonight, as you reminisce the imagination of realism, inside the shelled being, detected, and not protected. Help me. Decline, when you try to define. I've seen your dark side, don't try to hide it. Don't hide what you truly are, trying to bide the thing that lies within. It is so beautiful. Come take my hand, under these red skies, as we dance through the ash, and the blood. I except who you are, even if you do not do the same, because you can't decline from the confining, defining internal, of exterior emanation, inside simple communication. I, want you, to see. I want you to be, what you rightfully shall be. Pull off your mask, and show your true colors. Let me see the real form of your true self, inside the encaged manifestation that you have so let yourself be, but not who you want to see. Dragging you into shadows. Come Dance With The Devil Under Red Skies. Save me from blackness. I want you to see, what you have to be. Don't let those tears hit the ground, darling.