Her interpretation created a whole new image of this powerful song. Watching the fluid motions singing the emotion of reflection eloquently demonstrated by multiple dancers, each playing her part in the choreography, I was swept into another world. Suddenly, I could dance, just like her. And there, in the steps and movements, I saw myself for who really I am. Staring back from a place I'd forgotten, my reflection haunted me. I missed a step and instantly the glass shattered. And then it hit me. It broke me again. Made me believe myself, defined by torment, to have nothing. I bled. Not the red blood of a flesh wound, but the blue blood of my veins and very soul. It seeped from my cuts, forcing its way into the dance, refusing to be stopped. No matter that somewhere I always knew it was only a lie. It felt as real. As real as it did when I first knew. And then, in keeping with the rhythm, I realized I'd never get away. Or if I did, I'd be unrecognizable. Still feeling myself dance, the floor beneath me blue with my blood, I knew I was no longer me. Whoever I'd become was finished staring at what she knew were reflected lies. Time to pick up the piece of glass. It was all a nightmare.
For a long while, Caedmon's Call has been one of my favorite musical groups. Just hours ago I was reminded why that is the case. Mostly it has to do with their lyrics. But tonight, I have a new reason. A few hours ago, I was among onlookers who watched this song.
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