The lights create the world as seen from one

Perspective, and fourth partitioned by it.

The shadows cast, the costume built by none

Of fair game's players, seen in lamp's soft light.

They strut across the floor and tell such tales

That are at once familiar and as new

As life itself burst forth and wont prevail

Lives lived in haste and under watchful eyes

With love and woe and unassumed passion

Yet then they take their leave and like leaves die.

Such lifeless forms in heaps around the stage

And still, applause like thunder burns the air.

Puppets of fate, their strings now torn and free

Rise up drawn by the sound to take their bow.

Afternoon 'ere the building stands hollow

Life's led, love's lost, reset for next night's show.