The night he limped outside of this life
certain to cleave the burden of chains,
she danced with friends and toasted the room,
clueless to his strain she stayed.
Their rhythm was, once,
a ball change with perfect form, syncopated.
their music to quiet the storm.
Through his veins a beat pumped:
solo, solo, solo.
He took to a stage furthest from home
to save her from his blood red moon.