The dance of control,
tapped out by expendable feet.
A ballad of blood and bone
with a bombshell beat,
played for the world to hear.
Concussive symphonies ring,
as crimson ears listen on.
Composers exchange sheets,
musicians load their podiums,
the silent audience watching,
A multi-Maestro orchestra moves,
its waves cascading through the hall.
Children cry out and mothers scream,
as none are left untouched.
Echoes are heard for years,
even after the last note is struck.
Composers boast on their sheets,
Maestros boast their movements,
Musicians boast their executions,
the audiences reflect.
The tune may change,
but it’s always been heard before.