The Woman in Red

I met a woman today while out at sea,

The water, still and quiet, began to call to me.

It whispered names of those long dead,

While silence rang inside my head.

I felt so much beneath the night,

When I saw her, bathed in light.

A woman in red, a blinding flame,

Casting shadows, calling my name.

From the lighthouse came her sigh,

A call from where the stars collide.

Beneath the sky, I stood, entranced,

As on the sea, the moonlight danced.

She floated up the winding stairs,

With grace unknown to mortal cares.

Her eyes held mine, I couldn’t flee,

She reached and intertwined with me.

I had been lost, abandoned, torn,

Yet she, in red, my heart adorned.

For one night, she colored my soul,

A fleeting joy that made me whole.

But soon, I felt her play my heart,

Like it was hers to tear apart.

She held it tight within her hand,

Toying with it, a cruel demand.

Her kiss was darkness, pure delight,

A dance of shadows through the night.

Her lips, urgent, stained me red,

While something darker filled my head.

A creeping sense of what’s to come,

Of death that waits, no longer numb.

I pulled away to meet her gaze,

But saw decay in place of grace.

Her flawless skin now cracked and torn,

Her hair, a grey that mocked the morn.

Her breath of death filled up the air,

Rotting flesh replaced her care.

She laughed, a sound that chilled my bone,

“Your time is up, you’re all alone.

One final dance, one last embrace,

Before you must accept your fate.”

That single night revealed the truth,

Unveiling what had seemed aloof.

I had not danced with life, but death,

Her kiss had sealed my final breath.

Desire cloaked her, tempting deep,

But now I pay, in endless sleep.

The moonlight fades, the cold sets in,

And I am left with all my sin.

The woman in red had come and gone,

Leaving me in darkness—forever drawn.