The Morbid Ballad

One wintry night in mid September

In Lincoln Center New York City

Where artistic talents were set to nurture

And fearsome deaths for those with none

Up there she sat in one callous manner

Fingers sat to motion, eyes as unyielding as ever…

Her long slender fingers danced deftly

Across the sidewalks of black and white

A heavenly melody filled the hall

Emotions linger blithely by her side

An indeed dazzling display of virtuosity

As she swayed gracefully to the rhythm

Hesitation never once held her back

While elicit admiration and enraptured many hearts

Slowly she went on a crescendo –

One…two…three…and four…

The heaven were just beyond her reach

Her hand went forward, grasping for it

But nil, she failed and met her downfall

She ended the prelude with one great fall

The audience gasped at the tragic call

America had suffered a lost of great schemer

That very wintry night in mid September

In New York City Lincoln Center –

Where artistic features can be pretty mortifying

A not so typical poem of mine. Enjoy.