As the Violin Plays

Expressive, Poetry  ||   November 10, 2016   ||   0 comments
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The music starts,
It begins slow,
Picking up speed with every beat.
Each step faster and quicker.
Each movement more precise then the last.
She sways with the music.
The land is her dance floor.
The wind is her partner.

Her heart races.
Moving from right to left,
Twisting and turning,
The sound of the violin filling all her senses.
The music rushing through her like the blood in her veins.

Heart racing faster and faster,
It almost hurts but she won’t stop.
The music has taken her.
She’s lost herself to it.
There’s no stopping her now.
As long as the music flows through her veins,
She’s endlessly continue.

The music slows and she flows with it.
Her movements so elegant.
Her dress wrapping around her,
Holding her,
Trying to trip her up.
Anything to cause a flaw in her perfected movements.
Anything to destroy her beautiful dance.
She doesn’t allow it.
She loses no control over herself.

The music is hers to control.
Each step is another flawless piece of art.
With each step she takes a breath.
The air filing her lungs.
The music filling her mind,
Taking over everything within her.
It takes over her very being and she’s not complaining.

To dance is to feel free.
To chains can hold her down.
As long as the music exists she will dance.
Dance to escape her racing thoughts.
Dance to escape the very world in which she lives in.
There’s no stopping her anymore.

Only until the music slows.
The winds wrapping it’s arms around her.
It keeps pace with her every movements and every step.
The perfect partner.

The violin slows and suddenly stops.
A final step and she’s in place.
Stopping perfectly with the end of the song.
A racing heart comes to beat,
And the music escapes from her with a final breath.
All is released.


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