Centrifugue

The music fills this hall -
With the echoes of harmony.
Suddenly I'm confronted,
with an overwhelming urge to dance.

What style is appropriate?
Perhaps we'll dance like we used to -
Just 'round and 'round, in circles,

Counter-balancing each other perfectly,
The throes of young love,
Naïve and unaware of the trials,
of later life.

Our voices come together in harmony,
Until a third voice comes and brings chaos,
Destructive dissonance,
Like a lament for purity -

Yet, we spin 'round in circles,
Unaware of the passage of time,
The End is the Centrifuge,
Trying to break us apart,
But our voices are individual,
But contrapuntal in nature,
As we are but pieces of a whole,
Single parts of the Fugue,
Coming together as one.

The music still fills the hall -
With the ghosts of harmony.
Suddenly I'm confronted,
with an overwhelming urge to dance.