Plane Jane and the Vaignettes

There is a tale of a woman made of fire
Her eyes a ruby red and her heart bright like the sun
So the story goes, she was in love with the Man of the Moon
Dark madness seeps from his skin

That didn’t bother Jane, she had her own share of madness
It seemed as though Lune had more troubles than he could count
Either way, the two danced in a ballroom together,
Their steps always in time with one another

The decline of their time together was subtle at first
He didn’t know he had fallen out of love with her
For the music had slowed
She didn’t know he had fallen at all

Graceful leaves fall to the ground in their ballroom
A leaf touches Jane, she clutches it in her fist and it burns
To the ground she glides with the deadened leaves
She leaves no mark on the world

He passes away from her
His love ill and decrepit now
Lune rushes away quick passed Jane’s rage
It blossoms like her fire