I walk in this empty hall
I see the shadow of darkness,
In front of me are ghosts from yesteryear
That haunts me day and night.

As I enter inside the theatre and set my feet onstage,
I started counting the empty chairs
And see imaginary faces at the frontrow,
Familiar faces that were long time gone.

Laughing at me,
As if I am an object of derision,
As if I am one of the jesters in Shakespeare’s play,
Alone, I stand in mockery and shame.

I light a match
And burn the manuscript in my hands.
“Let it burn, let it burn!
Let my dreams turn to ashes”.

But for the last time–
Let me finish the final act,
Let me deliver my last line,
Before the curtain falls.


Please follow our commenting guidelines.

Comments are closed.