The Never Ending Dance

I spin and twirl and dance in the spotlight,
ignoring the surrounding dark stage.
I await a sound from the audience, maybe just one small sound.
It reminds me that I'm not alone but 'i hear nothing so I keep going,
stifling back yawns.
The spotlight which follows me is growing dusty and dim,
but I am a puppet on a string which must continue quietly.
My breath comes out in large puffs and my legs feel like jelly.
I still have to continue on waiting for what seems like nothing.
I slow with no hope of keeping up.
My strings have broken but have left me tired and weak.
So now all I can do is face forward on the stage,
stuck and ready for my last bow.

Deep

A dull sharp pain can be a deeply held thought.
Soon covered in darkness and would there be red?
It would be a stain.
A bright red smudge on the perfect canvas.
This canvas which was once so clean and innocent.
It now looks "plagued".
But now what if the smudge stain grows,
to a red murky river.
Blood red mixed with saltwater running over scabby rocks.

Believe

A small puff like an over hydronated cloud popping before it's first rain.
A deranged monkey sits, but is fading away.
Catch it quickly.
Too late, it's gone.
The lady is still singing but her melody is too loud to get her attention,
her voice echos on,
invading all thoughts.
What do I hear, is it singing or just buzzing,
a high pitched ringing which I cannot stop.
A loud presence with no turning back,
no fading like the monkey.
Thoughtful isolated thoughts.

The fire

I pull the chair to the fireplace to dine with the ravishing flame.
Words spilling from my mouth are responded to with cloudy smoke.
I sit upon my chair, the fire on its wood.
So we can both stay here until it's last dying "words".

Gone

The bitter bite of a lie set in silence.
The cold scream of a harsh word's cut.
The thought of a rainbow in a sunny sky has fallen to the bottom of a murky pond.
Every second is a rythem
every breath a breaking note.
The promise of yesterday is broken and unheld.
No more rythem,
no more notes,
only simple silence.

Idea to Expand into Poem

I thought of this today. I like it and am planning on expanding on its thought to turn it into a poem, maybe a long one.

The thought and feel of a word said through silence.

Hide and go Sun

Even now, the sun hides; it's rays have died to the eye.
A whisper of the wind tells clouds to move on and
soon light is here again.