The play

Alone in the dark, I write
as I dwell on thoughts into the night.
The world, my stage.
My life, the play.
The moon, my spotlight.

I perform to all who wish to see;
my solo act, myself and me.
There’s no applause,
no chants or roars.
My mood, the scene.

The lines I speak cannot be heard
by ears that listen alone for words.
The length unknown.
Its pace, my own.
The theme, absurd.

The performance, it continues still,
‘till suns don’t burn and looks can kill.
I know no more.
My future, unsure.
The play, my will.

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