"The Last Dance" by Donovan James Grey

A thousand ghosts bustle
about the burning ballroom,
mingling, and searching
amongst one another
for their better halves.

Some speak softly to me -
thinking for a time
that I am who they seek.
But they cannot hear the music,
they cannot see the band.

The fire grows higher,
consuming the nightshade and ivy
that shelter the walls,
and furnishing the ballroom
with its gentle glow.

Crows gather for me,
and the music dims
as they come,
sorrowful and silent,
to add to their collection.

I catch a glimpse of you,
alone amongst the crowd,
and I make my way
through the sea of ghosts
to your side.

The moonlight breaks
through the stained glass windows,
and the crows repose
amongst the rafters,
as I offer you my hand.

I feel the heat grow,
from without,
and from within,
as you look me in the eye,
and place your hand in mine.

The music swells,
and matches the beat
of two hearts truly free,
and we begin to dance
as the ghosts fade away.

Debris falls around us,
and the flames caress the ceiling,
but our eyes are locked together,
and your midnight dress flares
as you move into a turn.

The moonlight cascades upon us,
and the stars look on in sanctity.
The walls begin to crumble,
and we sing the last song,
as we dance the last dance.