The following is a recording of a spectator as he walks after watching a rapturous performance of his favourite dancer. His thoughts prove that the dancer has had a larger-than-art influence on him. The performance has left him emotional, empty-handed, his sense of purpose lost.
Yet, few would believe how envious his situation was!!!
Like the beach sand left back by the retreating waters,
Like memories washed ashore by the waves of events,
Like backyard swings as memoirs of now-wedded daughters,
Thy frame left my eyes leaving sweet tears as remnants.
Like silence lost with the advent of diction,
Like slumber stolen by that bundle of riches,
Like fiery pace muted by the labors of friction
Thy splendor did away with my trunk of wishes.
I hope you did mark me amid your rapturous dance,
And would return to grant me my secret musings,
For, I lost my alms when I clapped in a trance,
That with barren palms I now tread, musing.
