The Dance ~ By Dean Ross

A hazy mind, on a dark foggy night
Nefarious minion, far out of sight
Wandering aimlessly, throughout the streets
Imagining horrors, we’re sure to meet

Over our shoulders, we continuously look
Nervous and scared, skittish like crooks
Sometimes we walked, and at others we ran
Sometimes we stopped, then the talking began

We talked of tomorrow, and all that we planned
There would be peace and harmony, across all the lands
We talked of the present, and the girls that we like
There was mention of cars, and of course his new bike

Then a sound would occur, off in the fog
A footstep, a door closing, perhaps just a dog
We would both fall so silent, and perfectly still
Hearts beating fast, and feeling quite ill

We knew we must move, no place was safe long
Through yards we cut, until our lead was strong
We wouldn’t go back, of this we were sure
They asked of us far more, than we could endure

We traveled all night, through thicket and field
Down roads, alleys and some streets that weren’t real
We lost our pursuer, and by some stroke of chance
We made it back, for the end of the dance