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.