Lights dancing in the icy sky,
taking no heed of what comes by,
a night where even love comes not by,
to note the dance of the lights in the sky.

The silent mourning of the tormented soul,
the one love has forgotten, oft even forsaken,
of one love given and brutally taken,
rend recklessly from it's gentle mooring,
waiting not even for the morning.

The rules forgotten or ignored,
accepting love with only the sword,
the heart makes payment without remuneration,
never to regain what was recklessly taken,
tossed to the pit with the dogs of rejection,
on what love's lost in selfish collections.

I oft ask why hatred and malice be first choice,
when in love's arms,
we could dance with the lights.

Ric 89