The Rave
Lights out.
Screams erupt,
Like beautiful noise
Bubbling out of
A slumberous volcano.
Crowds shove their way
Forward, like the seas
Kissing the
Slippery shoreline.
A voice calls out
And a thousand call
Back in response. The answer
To their longing call.
The bass rips through
The bodies, both young and old.
The beat of the drums
Steadying the device’s purr.
Those who are not
Pushing towards the musical air
Hidden behind the barricade retreat
Like prisoners of war. They go
To quench their aching throats.
Ice-cold water soothes
The throbbing, allowing the subjects
To go strain their voices once more.
The leader of the pack, the performer
Commands his people to dance.
They are too happy to oblige.
Countless pairs of feet rise off the ground, arms
Raised in the air victoriously.
The smell of sweat swirls in the air,
Coinciding with the hot breath
Of all those in such a
Small space.
Sweaty hands grip cool metal,
Heavy feet with light smiles make their way
To the balcony for another view.
Stairs on either side direct those
To their final destination.
Their goal.
Looking down, you see the lights
Moving around the crowd and performers
Hypnotically.
Each instrument screams,
Encouraging the audience to keep going.
Keep moving.
Keep singing.
Who are those in the crowd to disappoint?
Adrenaline pumps through the veins
Of everyone in the room
Much like
Pouring rain.
Yes, it is raining, water being spilt.
Dancing grows clumsy
As song after song
Band after band
Enters and exits.
Some grow tired, while others
Feel the rush kick in
Too late for satisfaction.
As another musician makes their way
To their own throne,
The crowds part
And their believers
Make way to touch that sweaty hand
And hear the raspy voice.
Yearn for one more chord,
One more beat,
One more sound.
Tired, aching feet
Slide against the cool floors.
Crowds split in half,
And attack one another.
Soldiers of what they believe in.
Music.
Some believe in religion,
While others call music a god.
Coming together in peace,
To enjoy,
To love,
To show love and be loved.
Screams erupt,
Like beautiful noise
Bubbling out of
A slumberous volcano.
Crowds shove their way
Forward, like the seas
Kissing the
Slippery shoreline.
A voice calls out
And a thousand call
Back in response. The answer
To their longing call.
The bass rips through
The bodies, both young and old.
The beat of the drums
Steadying the device’s purr.
Those who are not
Pushing towards the musical air
Hidden behind the barricade retreat
Like prisoners of war. They go
To quench their aching throats.
Ice-cold water soothes
The throbbing, allowing the subjects
To go strain their voices once more.
The leader of the pack, the performer
Commands his people to dance.
They are too happy to oblige.
Countless pairs of feet rise off the ground, arms
Raised in the air victoriously.
The smell of sweat swirls in the air,
Coinciding with the hot breath
Of all those in such a
Small space.
Sweaty hands grip cool metal,
Heavy feet with light smiles make their way
To the balcony for another view.
Stairs on either side direct those
To their final destination.
Their goal.
Looking down, you see the lights
Moving around the crowd and performers
Hypnotically.
Each instrument screams,
Encouraging the audience to keep going.
Keep moving.
Keep singing.
Who are those in the crowd to disappoint?
Adrenaline pumps through the veins
Of everyone in the room
Much like
Pouring rain.
Yes, it is raining, water being spilt.
Dancing grows clumsy
As song after song
Band after band
Enters and exits.
Some grow tired, while others
Feel the rush kick in
Too late for satisfaction.
As another musician makes their way
To their own throne,
The crowds part
And their believers
Make way to touch that sweaty hand
And hear the raspy voice.
Yearn for one more chord,
One more beat,
One more sound.
Tired, aching feet
Slide against the cool floors.
Crowds split in half,
And attack one another.
Soldiers of what they believe in.
Music.
Some believe in religion,
While others call music a god.
Coming together in peace,
To enjoy,
To love,
To show love and be loved.