On tiptoes I dance
In silence I ache
My body contorted
In positions I partake
Each step is a battle
Each leap a cry
The pain is my burden
My wings cannot fly
Through blisters and bruises
I push through the pain
For the beauty of ballet
Comes at a cost I must pay
Sweat and tears mingle
As i strive for perfection
But the whispers of pain
Linger, a constant reflection
So ill dance through the fire
My passion undying
For the stage is my sanctuary
My soul forever flying
YOU ARE READING
Tales Of Ballets Lament
PoetryIn the hazy corridors of dreams, where reality blurs with fantasy and time dances to the rhythm of a forgotten melody, lies the mystical realm of Swan Lake. Here, shadows and whispers intertwine, shifting and swirling like phantom dancers on an inf...
