Each camera,each take and one more mistake to add to the last and the past that we dread is only two steps ahead or was that behind?
we look,do not find,the blind leading the blind,feeding on visions,leading to that collision and crash.
One more flash,one more take and one more ****** ache but the soul is intact.

Then the crew take their leave after bidding goodbye and the dread that we fear is nigh.
like 'pie in the sky' that's not there I get by on a wish and a wing,hoping that someone will bring me,
to some semblance of order that should be,
but every take, every flash,collision and crash I return to the stage where I age quite disgracefully,
fully aware that where I stand I shall fall.
A last call for the cast and the dread of the past reappears,in the circle or gods in the theatre at odds with the play,
I play on.