Simpler times
Harvest profound rhymes
How can two hands hold so much power?
Mirrors, smoke and ballet shoes
The seven dancers along the sphere of light cross the complexity
Interlinking fingers to Time’s command
I saw the sun sinking below the ocean
In a train carriage filled with strangers
Bowing out of the sky and into the orchestra
Parallel to all good things in the universe
Fusion, fission and expectations
An explosion of dark matter slams into the sphere of light
Neutralise, synthesise, form again
No one can fathom what happens to the sun
At the intersection of vibrating air
Silver and clandestine in someone else’s clothes
Liberated from insane occupation
She’ll live the life of the nighttime skyline, if only fleeting
It’s an analogue love for her
No one else can hear the static and clinking glasses
Masquerade in thick black ice
The seven dancers frozen in completion
Time wavers and the spell is broken
Jagged between the discrepancy in the mellow
It makes the beat louder
Soaring higher and higher, elevation to perfection
And it is smooth once more with the needle fixed
The seven dancers retreat at the curtain call
Who can really know what comes next
A fading farewell or a sonic boom
Trapped in the chaos of two thousand unblinking lights
And falling tears flooding an ivory chessboard
In time the sun will depart for the horizon
The dream will die, and the sphere of light will shatter
Until tomorrow, she’ll live again
Oct 17, 2025
Oct 17, 2025 at 5:14 AM UTC