The dream of ecstasy had turned
into a nightmare trance.
Where once they danced,
the floor had simply melted.

He rarely ever shed a tear,
no matter what he felt.
Music played, but could
no longer sway his attitudes.

He kept thinking that he had to pay his dues
to strangers near and far, and like a star
he kept on falling from the sky.
She'd seen through all his many alibis.

There was nothing left that he could say
to make her lean his way. He'd put
his charm on hold too long ago.
Rattling the bars that he had
built around his heart, he snarled
when she tried to tell him so.

Where once there was an afterglow,
the night was dark and long.
He never sang their song, not anymore.
Rusty hinges on the door would squeal
out his agony each time a thought
of freedom touched his mind.

The waiting had become a giving up.
Blood congealed within the golden cup.
He'd turned their dreams of ecstasy
into a nightmare trance. His demons
danced and railed in revelry. Where
once he used to see a golden future
coming real, he chose to paint
the seal of his self-inflicted doom.

Artistry in self-conflicted rooms.
Locks and chains to keep the real at bay.
His soul was keening like a banshee,
howling in the hot and steamy wind.
Dazed and yet amazed, his dying days
were happening. The nightmare trance
would never let him go...

? Michaelette ?