The Stage

 
 
Silence breaks in half to the sound of thunder  
and echoes cascade in the distance, fearful  
to disturb the night longing liberation of solitude  
crawling to the horizon ‘pon stars at deathbed.  
 
I tiptoe in the empty rooms searching for lightening  
to jolt fractured pieces of life in despair to repair  
the vast spaces of void, weightless artifacts  
lay at half mass covered with dust and the rusty tin  
roof overhead sizzles under tempo of raindrops  
muffling last summer’s temper of lustful expectations.  
Velvet curtains sway apprehensively at the shrine of  
panes pretending indifference at the erratic static  
rising staccato to pounding marcato.. in vain.  
 
Cold seeps beneath my feet, through bones  
feeling chill of the earth turned inside out, reflected  
to brooding sky above, absence aligned erred to  
recreate footnotes of a golden past: reposed, beheld.