The Day the Sun Rose and Dawned | Kathy Wang (9)

My heart beats for the freedom of delight

Her morale, now encased in an empty cage

Draws sorrow from the tips of salvation

Having once found color in movement

The moonlit light that shone in a weary age once illuminated her stage

From the tips of her fingers to the bottom of her toes

With each motion was a flowing, lyrical script written on air itself

Weaving her body into delicate threads of the Sugar Plum Fairy,

Her arms outstretched of every grand jete

Enchanted the world with a glimmering smile

Melted into the hearts of the audience was the past memory of a girl

But behind that girl was an image that I cannot go back  

No longer able to lose herself in a cathartic cadence of dance

No longer able to leap, her porcelain heart shattered

Not into pieces, but as remnants of a past memory.