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Bella Apr 2021
It was silent, but not dead of night
The sun still out, setting in the sky
But the stage was empty, it was really a sight
There were no performers, not wanting to die

They're all alone trapped in their dressing room
Costumes hung high on their shelves
There were no flowers, but it bloomed like a sweet perfume
Spreading through the theatre, only by oneself

There was no laughter, no clapping at the end
There was no intermission, just act after act
It greeted them all, like an old friend
The catastrophe wasn’t beautiful, but it was abstract

The theatre was empty, but everyone knows
The tragedy wasn’t over, the show didn’t close

— The End —