Catharsis: (Parts 1 & 2)
(Stanza Poems)
Written By Nigh-Jee
Subscribe to get Full Access
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
Subscribe to Read the Full Version
All Point-Of-Views Are Welcomed
Thoughts About This Literary Piece