the ballerina
the ballerina

Upon the stage, she softly glides,
A whisper in the evening tides.
Her arms like branches, reaching wide,
Grace and strength, in her reside.

A turn, a leap, a fleeting trace,
Time dissolves in her embrace.
With every spin, the stars align,
A dance of dreams, pure and divine.

Silent, poised, she claims the air,
A fleeting moment, beyond compare.
Then bows, as lights begin to dim,
A timeless echo, soft and slim.

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