Embrace the Tune
"Come one, come all," the call echoes wide,
Tonight, the tent opens, with wonders inside.
The lights hum softly, a magical glow,
A fiddle dares ankles to dance in its show.
Gather around, let the spectacle bloom,
The puppets have played, now it’s time for a tune.
Like a merry-go-round, the melody spins,
It circles, it twirls, and it pulls you back in.
Dotta arrives with his fiddle of wood,
Carving the air where the wild music stood.
He forces the dance with a mischievous grin,
Each step that you take draws you deeper within.
When the music fades out, no one feels betrayed,
Yet hearts beat in sync with the tune that was played.
To their quiet dismay, it’s the master’s old play,
His strings pull the dance in a cunning display.
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Embrace the Unveil
On the other side of the flame’s golden glow,
Angelic Dotta floats where the heavens flow.
His harp’s steady strum echoes sharp through the sky,
He watches free will where the spirits fly high.
A shadowy figure now pulls at the strings,
With chaos and guile, its illusion it brings.
“That’s not Dotta!” a few softly cry,
Their whispered doubts murmur, faint in the sky.
“Who is this impostor, this weaver of dreams?”
A handful suspect, though all’s not what it seems.
Most cling to the lie, in the shadow’s false art,
Yet Dotta’s true valor still burns in the heart.
The whispers, though quiet, plant seeds of unrest,
The shadow’s grand farce may yet face a test.
In the unveil, a spark of truth starts to gleam,
To challenge the puppet who steals Dotta’s dream.
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