She whirled around center stage, pirouetting around the room
Curly ebony hair with heavy make up, silver shadowing around
The brows, reflective of the snowy supermoon
And as she danced, spectactors cry, we are lulled into
The throes of a gothic lullabye, softly sung sorrowfully, resonating
Deep within the heartstrings of the audience, no longer feeling
A little tense, expressing the love of dance as to how she feels
No longer needing commerciality to keep it real,
She's pouring her heart out through the medium of dance
Improving with every step knowing that it might be classed as
A distant trance, floating, gracefully into an elegant twist,
The poem can now be resolved and twirled into this
A moving piece of powerful verse, emotions churn like a blessing
And a curse, the balance is no longer reported adrift
As this poem ends with a silent kiss, a quiet salute to those
That can dream and remind people reading this that
Not everything in reality appears as it seems, that mystery
Can appear to many even in evidential truths