I observe the ancient wonder
An old music box,
Whose shell is enclosed in aged mahogany.
The innards contain dissimilar gears and cogs
***** by rust laid out by Father Time,
In his endless cycle.
The scarred ballerina
Her painted flesh corroding to a dust.
I witness the aging ballerina
In her endless German Waltz.
Yet the music, still pure,
As if the music fixes this artifact
As if it was her.
Feb 13, 2010
Feb 13, 2010 at 3:27 PM UTC
I observe the ancient wonder
An old music box,
Whose shell is enclosed in aged mahogany.
The innards contain dissimilar gears and cogs
***** by rust laid out by Father Time,
In his endless cycle.
The scarred ballerina
Her painted flesh corroding to a dust.
I witness the aging ballerina
In her endless German Waltz.
Yet the music, still pure,
As if the music fixes this artifact
As if it was her.