When shadows fall and hearts feel low,
A solace stirs, where rhythms flow.
In sorrow’s grip, when hope seems dim,
We turn to dance, its healing hymn.

The music calls, a tender plea,
A whispered balm for agony.
Feet find the beat, the body sways,
A silent prayer through movement’s praise.

Grief’s heavy weight begins to wane,
As steps release the boundless pain.
Each pirouette, a fleeting flight,
A spark of joy in endless night.

The floor becomes a sacred space,
Where tears and laughter interlace.
A story told through leaps and turns,
Of loss, of love, of life that yearns.

For dance transcends what words can’t say,
It mends the soul in its own way.
Through sorrow’s depths, it lights a flame,
A timeless art, forever the same.

So when the world feels cold and bare,
We dance to heal, to breathe, to care.
In every step, a chance to rise,
To find the stars within the skies.