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.