Dancing on the well-lit marble platform,
She twirls, eyes closed, torch in hand.
Clothed in white, her dress billows restlessly,
the sweet smell of nature spinning, engulfing her.
The beauty of Earth rests comfortably on her shoulders.
The chirping of birds all around her is music.
And the light radiating off her skin is our candle.
Cherry lips turn like the crescent moon and part,
An ivory smile gleaming, protecting us
from whatever lies beneath her .
Like a vulture, feeding of the dead, she sneers,
her eyes blood red like the hot lava streaming near.
Vine-like dreadlocks fall carelessly over pale white skin-
as wrinkled as the knobbly branches of a willow tree.
A ruddy gown wrapped around the bony frame
as she sneers a mouth of acrid, yellow teeth.
Around her, creatures of the dark dance with evil at their lips,
Fire flames flickering, dancing menacingly in the dark,
She laughs horridly, and taking her wooden stick,
points it above with an loathsome grin, and flies.