Rythym pounds and the drums afflict the senses,
Cold darkncss pierced by shattering light
That roams the gloom, instills the motion
The motivations, the stimulations,
And blood burns in the veins.
Each soulful pain is brought to bear,
The force of the battle brought to the field of play,
And sweat springs forth upon the brow,
To drench the hair, blind the eyes,
Each stamping foot, each zero
Described by whirling limbs,
A passion born of the need to purge burdens,
Transform woes and
And tears of joy are shed in the broken moments,
As the war on the dancefloor is won.