Stolen Love

Blood stains the walls
Tears stain the floor
Dead roses litter the path

So this is the price we pay

The heart lies in the corner
Shattered and broken
No amount of stitches can heal this one

So this is the price we pay

She, the dancer
He, the composer
Together, a beautiful ballet

But what happens when the music stops playing?
The dancer stops dancing?
And the heart stops beating?

So this is the price we pay

Somewhere, someone laughs
But the laughter is quickly stifled
The whole world seems to be in mourning.

The dancer is dead.
The composer too.
The stained knife lies in the middle of the lovers.
The culprit is escorted out….face stained with blood and a sinister smile.

“He was married, you know.” Someone whispers.
So this is the price we pay

(Originally Posted 12/21/08)

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