Dancing With Fear

A tall dark man came to me in a cloudy dream,

his words spilled out in the riddle it seemed,

"the time is not yours, take life by the horns", he rasped,

I felt cold air on my neck as I gasped,

my hair was black and my lips that of red rouge,

I pranced around searching for the man without a clue,

the ground gave in and I let out an inevitable yelp,

the tall dark man appeared at my side and began to help,

he grabbed me by the waist and lay me to rest on a bed of thorns,

I looked at him puzzled for my skin remained untorn,

his lips did not move for I had my answer as he drew near,

all this time I had been dancing with fear