Spinning, spinning
In the technicolored sun that rises
And the dancing moonlit night that falls
She is a stranger to herself
Leaping, twirling
Lost in the endless dances
Footfall after footfall
The rhythm continues
Unaware, unknowing, underfocused
Drifting in and out of her lucid mind
Instead of grasping reality
She escapes, now, to that place
A place where none can find
In the rising of the morning sun
And the moonlight night that falls
She is evolving and enchanting
Spinning her own fairytale that has no ending
No peace, no happily ever after
But no sorrow, no pain
A simple existence that cannot be explained
By the end of this weaving, this dancing, this spinning
She is left in the minefield torn to shreds
Activated and detonated by the heat of her feet
She is breathless.
Author notes
No idea where this came from 8D
What did you think
Comments
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Ahhhh, escape from reality, those little places we like to go to hide from ugliness. We can create beauty and isolate ourselves from truth. This poem is so pretty and then reveals a hint of darkness. Dancing on the brink of delusion
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neither do i but it's good. sometimes stuff i write comes from no where. lol
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Such amazing imagery. And I really love the words "technicolored" and "fairytale" -- even though they weren't in the same line, they made me extremely happy
Hmm, what else? This made me think of a girl dancing in the middle of the street in the middle of winter -- great write!!
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