I would remain waiting in the dark
Amidst the heart of this empty theater,
Cold, forlorn, desultory,
The final passage was portrayed long ago,
The actors, renowned for their virtuosity,
All left, wiping away the last traces of paint off their faces,
I will persist, still when the audience, enchanted,
Praising profusely the masterly recital of the crew
Have left hours ago;
The reverberation of the bustling crowd past away
An eternity past;
I will remain still, seated, patient, waiting,
For I know, behind the drape, there lingered
Not the stillness of ephemeron
But you, reiterating your discourses
The enthralling soliloquies that captivated millions of hearts
You are still there, motionless, for like I, you have nowhere to go
Both you and I will remain
Incarcerated in our roles of the thespian and the spectator
The parts we acquired eons ago and could not let go,
Here when the darkness bruises this maculate night
The fullest of hearts are being shattered so pitilessly,
We will act our parts time and again,
Even when they outgrew their purpose
For there was no design, but purposelessness
We will rest here, in our convalescence
Through spring, summer, autumn to winter
Until the dawn breaks into shuddered earth
And the river wails up, washing away from coast to coast
Leaving nothing behind: time nor epoch.


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