Futile existance

with a slight dance you invent new moves
are they the one you were learning the night before
or is it all just a well scripted act full of love
just as the devil dropped down to bow at your presence

an angel halting breath,
a demon giving life it has become a complication
drama is often the humor in comedy
and tragedy the love in romance

i draw from the pain that is called trauma
yet all that's left is just a painful remainder of what was
the visible light that's glaring out is harmonic at best
yet too peaceful to draw the blood out