Her Presence

In sickness I spit yet the encore persists.
Blood gains no sorrow, this dance is their need.
If stage is left bare then the upset will flare
and boos from the crowd do not care if you bleed.

Patience is anxious...
...but there is her sign!

I smile as curtains begin to descend.
They flee from their seats and begin their retreat.
Her presence is right where my triumph begins.

Her motion is slow yet so steady she goes.
Weaving through seats as they quickly take leave.
Their eyes become fear when they see she is near,
for she is not easily seen and percieved.

This beautiful woman.
This menace magnificent.
Endless I wish to spend time with you infinite...

In sickness I spew yet demand remains high.
They care not for conscious, they want only script.
If words are not spoken then pattern is broken
and plays on the stage are not paid if they slip.

Anger shows danger...
...but there is her sign!

The windows reflect her reflection displayed.
The play ever grand is dismissed by her hand.
She blots out the spotlight that torments the stage.

Her hair is expansive, too long to be measured.
It drapes and it sways like a blanket of shroud.
They form their retreat before she takes a seat.
They wish not to stay when her presence is found.

This beautiful woman.
This secret superb.
In silence I lie with you without a word...

My fever is broken, my malady cured.
The test ever constant is put in remission.
I break from my captors and flee with her freedom.
To hell with this crowd and their need for pretention.

But balance is torment; forever has lines.
Half of the time she is kept far away.
Its then I'm entombed in a loneliness doomed...
...until I see signs of her presence display.