Dancing to the heady beats of many drums;
Beguiled into believing I’ve filled my place,
I glide then bow, to rapturous applause.
When all I have done was save my face.
Deep down I know it’s all a sham, a façade,
That gloomy place where make believe is hailed,
And truth is lost in a swirl of dust, a charade,
Where light, like sight, is blurred by drums of ale.
I strain to hear the still small notes of flutes,
Amidst the bedlam that drowns out reason’s song.
To yield to the tug of age old roots
In spite of lures that seem so loud, so strong.
I want to dance to the tune that will find me,
Cos’ then I may become all that I can be