Ask not where I go to
In the maudlin strains of what's left;
the Morass eaten,
crawls mightily with the vermin of My mind
dregs ,dank and dripping,
cloud the places I have been
does the Sun come there?
or the lithe beauty of the dancer,
agile and lissome.
even the glow will suffice
Peal of laughter, joyous cadences
slow, and tumble then fall asunder.
limbs askew, as she gives up