The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

Her pink skirt sways in time to her still feet,

As they spin in an everlasting circle with no beat.

Her hollow face stares straight ahead with blank eyes,

It shows no happiness, tells no lies.



The ballerina girl dances to the tune,

Of a song to which her heart is not attuned.

Not hearing, not seeing, just spinning all the time,

Living in monotony, longing to break free of the rhyme.



The box is filled with jewels and prizes,

Beyond her reach, all of which she despises.

She glances at her face in the mirror she dances before,

Sadness, hopelessness to the core.



So she longs for the moment when she is free,

When she can hear, when she can see.

She dreams of the time when she won’t spin,

For the time she hears the tune within.



The ballerina girl dances to the tune,

Of a song that is her cocoon.

Not hearing, not seeing, just wishing all the time,

For when her heart will dance to its own rhyme.