music of the damned streams out of your movements
a flick of your hand
a step on your toes
the crescendo convulses in agony

you speak in staccato
mending your recent betrayal
with a move from your hip
poisonous words
on your tounge slip

you give them notes of destruction
with the way you close your eyelids
harmonies of their broken strings
your laugh is chilling
you dance in songs of lost dreams

a necklace of percussions
the collection of others beats
robbed from hollow chests
you hit them with ease
they take it, again and again
and you're pleased

the song is not yours to sing
it belongs to the others
the ones with the broken strings
those whom you robbed
with nimble limbs

your cold hands
makes music
on others
you'll never allow them
to catch you
or trap your icy fingers
with rings