Poesía - 4

Amid the blaze of fire,

she dances alive,

bowed down upon the presence

of fiery creatures,

which, casted, burn and smoke

and cry their spirits out

majestically following the music’s flow.

A feathered mask hides her face,

and conceals more than a girl’s game,

for, yes! she dances alive,

but in her steps she carries

the whole weight of the World

finely weaven in the colours

of feathers of dead ancient birds.