Consonants

Dancing crazed and forgotten;
six halls
one heart.
One million ways to hold onto silhouttes. Ignored by tattered lips, broken calls.
It's like you've run out on yourself.
Split between death,
good fortune and a staggering breath.
A broken key for a faulty lock.
A fevered pray for a dying flock.
Like consonants without vowels.
Jagged tongue wag, incessant stones passed- other hours merely forgotten.
It is with a dream and a heart that we proceed.
Not a thought to leave not another lifetime we need.
And though we may look behind;
this visions' seductive glance,
we will pick up our pride and loosen our impenetrable stance.