Member Poem

Voices like violin strings
descend in pitch, looping back
in carefully placed steps
of few notes
(seeming random),
accompanying the spiral
steps winding
down
into
the maze.

A dance of tympani and strings
follows the labyrinth:
winds hum ethereal as
a bassoon exhales.

Terror never
comes in thunder.
It prefers
a sinister waltz
of seduction.

Then, metallic bones
clash in clanging
vibrations. Strokes
of plucked harp strings,
the heartbeat, first steady,
then
slowing into
a perfect
if ignoble end as
she finds
peace of mind
in dying.