A thousand times, the question is put forth.
“Why do you go through the pain?”
“What gain is there in the end?”
Well, with a smile pasted across my head,
My response is served thus:
Listen, to the song here in my heart;
A melody i cannot resist.
The rhythmic patterns i must obey
By The tunes of the elements, my bones are contorted.
Though i am tall standing,
The spirit within is rendered formless.
I am the shaped creature of a thousand shapes.
I am the rhythmic contortionist
I bend not break
An epitome of the perfect orchestration of the creator.
I am born of the pure energy in Art.
I am the art.