Waltz

The river Styx swells with the blood of broken hearts,
Lapping at the corpses fresh from the Danse Macabre;
Alone upon the ashen banks as each sullen soul departs,
To a symphony of screams I dance merrily by candelabra

Azra'il tugs the strings of a rusty harp while a Reaper sings:
"Please my children, do not cry, it will not be over soon;
I await your despondent love after your grave bell rings,"
To the ballad of brokenness my heart does sway and swoon

I look to my prostrate unloving audience and know a face,
Our eyes align and crimson raindrops stifle my candelabra;
A face too young for torment - my waltz is now a race,
Perhaps I've indulged for too long in the Danse Macabre..

The angel tells me to jump into the abyssal river for a face in the dark.

I must relieve my pain and live with my bride in death.

There doesn't seem to be a right or a wrong anymore, only a painful face that is blurry within my mind's eye.

And so I merrily let the rhythm of the Danse Macabre guide me down the banks of the river Styx so that I may be washed upon my bride one day in eternity.