To the gone

The villanelle of my homework. Already handed in, so not available for corrections for now. Also, I published it at Learning to Fly.



…So we get up, and dance with mercenary hearts,
Our eyes on eyes, our hand to distant past,
Till the wind brings us whispers built on sand.

Music lured the mind to open sky,
Where colors, feelings and temptation start,
So we get up, and dance with mercenary hearts.

Beyond the ballroom lies the soldier sinking ship,
Its course beyond our stained-glass water hands,
The wind shall bring us whispers built on sand.

She leaves behind the perfume of her dress,
A handkerchief, or some senseless remark.
So we get up, and dance with mercenary hearts.

It is well known that he shall leave as well,
And the one after him, to some faraway land.
The wind shall bring us whispers built on sand.

Till the ship comes and takes them all away,
We take a glass and ask for one more chance.
So we get up, and dance with mercenary hearts,
Till the wind brings us whispers built on sand.