His waltz

he bleeds black in
moon light full
his heart emptied
his veins spill
his soul into
the dark sea of night
he forsakes his voice
and makes his choice
to dance with those
demons he had fought
those he often had sought
never being able to choose
of his favorites
slots or sluts or booze
how could he choose
and had had his fill
until tonight
when his veins spill
his soul into the night
he grabs the shoulder
of Beelzebub to
balance his stance
for he's not quite
ready to fall
though he can
barely resist the flies
persistent call
and the dark grows
darker as the abyss
blooms before him
his step, one, two, three
one waltz too many