Swarthy & 'Fro

Literature

Riddles, Quotes, Poems, & More


Estimated Reading Time

10–14 minutes

Read Two Mysterious Poems

Catharsis: (Parts 1 & 2)

(Stanza Poems)

Written By Nigh-Jee

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Synopsis


Two different people encounter different individuals. The two people believe those individuals hold power.


Catharsis (Part 1)

ƬӇЄ ƊƛƦƘ ƧƜƛƝ

Her twists are in a bun

Adorned with twinkling flowers of somber colors that wilt

Petals drop to a song that sometimes reverse with static 

She dances on stage—no audience to stare 

No one to show, but time waits for no one

Her talent she keeps whilst she’s always moving

She never take breaks, to experience her loved ones

Like the only tear who fell with no other tears to hug it

Outside this theater, there are broken glass windows

Inside this theater, there are slowly collapsing floors

Above this theater, there are angels who pray for it

Below this theater, there are wicked entities who prey on it

A curious woman walks in upon the rows of seats

ƬӇЄ ƊƛƦƘ ƧƜƛƝ’s eyes focuses on the woman

Yet, she keeps on prancing, yes, she keeps on dancing

“Why did you enter a place that looks unruly? How’d you survive the pitfalls and not fall? Are you looking to be sane like me?” ƬӇЄ ƊƛƦƘ ƧƜƛƝ’s whispers reverb whilst that same song still reverse with static

The curious woman freezes in terror

She knew she heard music, every time she drove past

Right after the father she loved so much eventually passed

But the woman does not scream, however, she runs away

Out the theater and drive to work where the thoughts of her dead father still lingers

She puts on a masked smile in the name of compensation

Only to leave work, go home, and spend time with…no one

When asleep, her mind wanders into the theater’s halls

And recall the woman who danced and how she enthralled

“Is she still there…? Is she okay? She was so stunning. Why would someone like her stay in a place like that?”

The sun’s wings fly into the sky after the moon’s wings perch below

The woman gets ready for work, yet, her thoughts can’t seem to focus

She remembers moments of being a motherless child—and the fun life lessons her father gave to her throughout the years

The woman cracks a smile—still unable to accept the man who guided her is no longer here

Remembering how ƬӇЄ ƊƛƦƘ ƧƜƛƝ danced with so much life

Remembering how ƬӇЄ ƊƛƦƘ ƧƜƛƝ carried along as if our world is the fantasy and hers is reality—the curious woman returns on that same day

To the woman’s surprise, the dancer was still there, performing perfect art without one single care

“Are you okay? Do you need to eat? Do you have any friends or relatives you can meet up with?

But all the prancer could respond with was, “why did you enter a place that looks unruly? How’d you survive the pitfalls and not fall? Are you looking to be sane like me?” The whispers reverb whilst that same song still reverse with static

“Who are you…?” The curious woman whispered, but no answer materialized from the dancer, just a chassé, a développé, and jeté

She leaves the dancer behind and tells others so they can witness this

Everyone—coming and going; nurses, professors, police officers, and doctors—custodial workers, accountants, militants, and chefs all found ways around the pitfalls to not fall—though, every step causes a crack…so would one ever fall?

Outside the theater, question marks never sleep nor laid down at the end of a sentence

One person asks, “should we do something?”

A person replies, “but she’s not harming anyone”

A person queries, “should we tear down this theater?”

A person responds, “but is it strange that she would be the only cause?”

A person wonders, “where does that strange music come from?”

A person answers, “no one has been able to find it”

A person says, “has she ever stopped dancing? Hopefully, she won’t fall sick”

And a person answers, “the same people visited her night and day…to this very moment…they said she never stopped”

The curious woman who spread the rumor walked up upon the entrance—she appears to have a downtrodden face filled with tiredness

She appears to have rheumy eyes that should be on the brink of a shut-eye

She looks at the people, and they look at her—and she quietly walks inside the theater…

She walks, and walks, and walks

And sits down in front of the dancer and lowly voice, “I miss you father” and starts to cry

Afterwards, silence spews from both the curious woman and ƬӇЄ ƊƛƦƘ ƧƜƛƝ

Only that same song still reversing in static plays

And because this spellbinding performance never ends

More and more and more curious people enter the abandoned theater—wondrously accepting that someone like her exists

They would silently sit down, think of their trauma, and begin to cry

And because she never takes a break to experience her own life

ƬӇЄ ƊƛƦƘ ƧƜƛƝ’s one and only tear who falls once a day, a tear the audience never witnesses due to the distraction of her extravagant dances, with no other falling tears to hug it

Yes, because she never takes a break to experience her own life—they will never able to applause ƬӇЄ ƊƛƦƘ ƧƜƛƝ’s truly finished performance


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