She dances. She dances like a young girl. Dancing away tirelessly. Her every turn and every twirl creating events in our lives. Small insignificant us. Broken puppets on a strings about to snap. We do not know who we are. Who we are meant to be. We don't find our places in this world. They always seem to be taken by someone else.
She dances like a young girl. Full of love and life. She stops to sing when she begins to tire. Her soft sweet voice telling our stories. Telling our stories of beauty, of courage, of love, of death. We are broken puppets on strings about to snap. The show will soon end. The strings will snap. We will fall into a void of emptieness. Our souls can't fly away. They're pulled into the void. We cease to exist. We're forgotten.
No comments:
Post a Comment