Silent Ballet


 Watch her twirl around,

In the spotlight,

On the centre stage,

The audiotorium black as night.

See the grace,

In uplifted limbs,

Her tragic expression,

As her life-light dims.

Observe the dark man,

In the back row,

Arms folded,

Intent on the show.

Eyes like red coals,

He watches her dance,

Noting each smooth motion,

Savoring each sad glance.

Her face grows paler,

Starting to match her white dress,

Yet she twirls on,

For her uninvited guest.

He seems to strengthen,

As her movement grows weak,

His expression triumphant,

As hers becomes bleak,

He catches her eye,

And maliciously smiles,

Her face fills with fear,

Steps falter a while.

But in a burst of defiance,

She starts once again,

Breath-taking motion,

Filled with beauty and pain,

He becomes angry,

She must not escape!

But he cannot stop,

Her silent ballet.

Finally it is too much,

She cannot go on,

Overcome, her dance,

Slows and is gone.

She stands centre stage,

Watching him rise to his feet,

Watching him, watching him,

Sinking to her knees in defeat.

Her eyes never leaves his,

As he raises his hands,

And Death claps in the silent hall,

Applauding her last dance.


About saharsalman

Aspiring poet. Spectator of life. Words of Whim.
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4 Responses to Silent Ballet

  1. abichica says:

    Very gripping, haunting… the dance of death.. So beautifully written.. 🙂

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