A wonderfully painted piece, full of mystical beauty and sadness, merged seamlessly together into a bloodied dance.
This has chilled me, because my interpretation of this piece, which maybe totally wrong, so apologies in advance if this is the case.
The dance moves are real; they are beautiful, like your grace. This beauty is observed quietly and fuels a slow, but intense fury, the fury of a green eyed aggressor. He cannot stomach the admiring gazes of your adoring audience and so he taunts himself, bullying his mind, becoming engorged with rage. The music and so the dance draws to a close, you open your eyes, only to stare into the eyes of fire!!
On the floor you lie, collapsed in a puddle of
I hope this hasn't offended you in anyway, but this is my interpretation of a great poem.