The Dance

They have continued The naked dance In the centre Of the market square… Elders and children Shamefacedly dishevelled Have kept the dance Of shame To their chest Like a golden inheritance… Sadly we watched Crying for an end To the naked dance… But nay! Many Of the watchers And criers of yesteryears Have today Swum gingerly towards The market place To join the naked dance of shame… A friend of mine Who yesterday swore To end the dance Is today at the head Of the drumming crew Alternating the beat with dance-steps Frenzied but crooked Albeit beautiful in all their eyes… ‘Hey! Friend! You pledged to quell The shameful dance last night But so early today Are u wining and grinding To these damnable beats…’ He laughed Scoffed… ‘Come on board And eat with the gods Dance to sacred beats In the hinterlands Of the chosen few, The view in here Is prettier than yonder. Dear friend, Blame me not For I am intoxicated To be a god among men…’ Then I knew The naked dance has no end… There may be A change of beat But the dance Till eternity Shall continue…