in winter in a frozen glade
their hearts and feet percussions made.
on earth as cold as winter's frost
as one their sanity they lost.
the sun, a single golden coin,
above the hills, the earth did join
the torches bright flew in the black
burning for the light they lacked.
without the sun, the longest night
with flames alone they hoped to fight.
though cold before them long will lie
their dancing feet in sharp air fly
about them shadows form dark cloaks
inside their hearts are hard as oaks
as time wears on but in a spell,
they stamp and twirl and cannot tell.
until behind the icy slope
faint dawn appears, they to dare hope
but not to stop their frantic dance
their future lives not left to chance
for with the songs, the flying flame
the seasons and the sun they tame
and when they break the trance they say
we've made it to another day.