I ascend the stairs to centre stage,
Beneath a barren balcony.
I hear the phantom crowd's applause
As I approach my mark and pause,
Beneath a floodlit canopy.

Like a sparrow then upon my fence,
Who sings his own soliloquy,  
Without a soul to hear me thence,
I speak my heart at their expense,
Who in their absence never hear me.

I whisper words to dying flames,
That now are just an ember,
In younger days our lustful games
Love trapped inside of photo frames
That help you to remember.

For lovers who have lost my trust,
Do I produce my vengeful sword,
My feet they lunge upon the dust,
Across the stage I stab and ******,
To strike down Brutus, once adored.

And in the tide of our affairs,
Tis love who wears the laurel crown,
To rapturous silence I take the stairs,
The long lost loves still unawares,
Of the house that's been brought down.