Last

Still on my Edgar Allen Poe hype I tried playing with multiple sad poems. Poems of love that I thought he'd write.

Last

It can't get much better

 as we dance together.

I feel her soft skin

 and take the scent of her hair in.

We twirl to the music,

 I think of magic.

It has to be,

 why else would she love me?

The stars are twinkling,

 the moon is sprinkling

  it's light upon us.

   We've been at it since dust.

The song never ends,

 we never awaken.

Stuck, in one another's gaze,

 trapped in love's maze.

Love keeps us going.

 We both are hoping

   it will last

    as we dance through the grass.

This may be our last chance,

 and so, we dance

  to a life which was cruel and mean.

We know this is something like a dream.

In front of the moonlit lake

 we dance but do not wake.

She is no longer around.

 She rests in the ground.

The happy and grateful dreamer

 I rest next to her.

Thus this may be our last time together

 and so we chose to dance forever.