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Humanity
The fiddle cries, unrelentingly
its bow taut and rigid
as two figures embrace
in the cold air of the night
Its shrewd cry, a warning
that love will never heed
The pace quickens, growing frantic
the lovers, crescendo
in time with the fiddle
Louder the instrument plays
knowing all too well
the eminent danger
to which the pair are blind
Yet the intertwined pair
strive faster, stronger
weaving, constricting their bodies
tighter and tighter together
The fiddle moans, its strings
snapping from the weight,
the realization of humanity
settling upon its neck
What was once two
has now, irreversibly
become one.
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