Dance of the Trolls

Hush now... hear the little feet, Skipping softly through defeat. Tiny crowns and painted smiles, Measuring the world in guile. Tiptoe through another storm, Smiling like it's somehow warm. Pull a thread and watch it fall, Then deny you touched at all. Whisper, giggle, turn away, Claim the night, then curse the day. Every crack becomes a stage, Every spark another page. Dance of the Trolls! Round we go! Plant a seed and watch it grow. Not with kindness—never that— Only thorns beneath the hat. Dance of the Trolls! Light as air. Nothing broken? We'll get there. Laugh until the mirrors call... See yourselves? Not at all. Every jest becomes a knife, Tiny games with larger lives. Every echo wins applause, Never asking what it costs. Spin around the shattered glass, Praise yourselves as heroes pass. Build your towers out of smoke, Crowning every hollow joke. Round and round the music plays... Never stopping... never stays... If the hall grows cold and bare, Simply say the fault's elsewhere. If the lights begin to fade, Find another masquerade. Dance of the Trolls! Take your bow. Tell yourselves you're clever now. Every curtain, every cheer, Only echoes disappear. Dance of the Trolls! One last spin. Round and round and back again. Tiny kingdoms, paper walls... Forever dancing... The Trolls. The clock winds down... The hall grows still... Yet somewhere... The dance begins again.