the ballerina of the music box

I always dreamt of having one, one that I could actually open as the ballerina dance. So graceful and pleasing, the way she turns around; hearing raindrops as the sound. I love it when the music starts to pour, it’s like an entry to another dimension; a world that I only see from a far, and completely, I’m hypnotized. Every time I open the box, the pleasing existence of melody and movements running in my head, carry’s my heart into the clouds. It’s cold and quiet, simple and painless, unceasing happiness and endless whisper of fantasy. I love it when she dances, freely moving but magnetized on the same plane and gravitated on a world that seldom opens. How could such beautiful sight be closed before someone’s hatred eyes? Its pleasing to hear the music, its soft touch gives me all the reason to dream, it is a sight that brings sparkle in my eyes and it is the music that could forever cover sadness. As the music invades my mind, I am set to fly and leave the world behind; the world where I am a complete stranger. Where will I fall? Where will I be? Where will the music take me? In a world I call my own? So many questions, but I hesitate to bother. Too selfish to find my own music, too eager to be where would it take me. So wide the world I am in, every time I open that box. It’s such a world of my idealistic mind; a world where reality is not real and fantasy lives on forever. Before I indulge myself to ecstasy, I must admit that when it is closed, the entire world I dreamt of is silent. I don’t know if it will be closed forever or it will automatically open in time. I don’t know and I think I’ll never know.

Still here
So sad that I couldn’t hear the music
So sad that I could see how graceful it can be

jan