“On this dread field we gather. Our blades, sharp. And the drums echo the beat of our ardent hearts.”

                            
Singing and slaying, a picture painted darkly
                                
an instant illuminated, like a war among the stars

made by lightning and the rain

                              
Hoping but knowing, this could be the last chapter
                                                  
and how the world is in your sight, between the flashes of steel

is marked by the courage in your eyes

                                                        
A chorus of thunder follows our voices, bounding over the field of death
                                                      
tonight we all live by the second and strive against darkness with every breath

Let me pull you through this as
gently all the little things you see
reach out and pluck you from the home you keep

Uncertain steps to somewhere
this can only be a dream
what does it mean

What does it mean

In the arms of the aetherial gale
caught
I am not sure
it’s like I’ve been here before

Once mighty wings now
encased in silken threads again
I close my eyes with a hand in the well of notions

Welcome to infinity
awoken to be put to sleep
the wave is calling for me

Where is the key
to the gate
who is the keeper
to the kept

The darkest part of distant space
the deepest fathoms in a lightness place
no
child
there is no abyss
no nothingness
it all exists to flow

"...I'm sorry, but reading 'An Introduction to Probability' won't help you with this sort of thing. I mean, I believe there is the possibility that we will fall in love."

pause

"But what do I know?"

The cold dissonance formed like the frost on a leaf of late October - It's the way it crumbled.
They believed in what they were subject to
like not conveying feelings is in fashion
I tell you its a flawless fall
Thus closes the locket shaped like love that held it all side by side, a thousand words less.
And you flash your teeth as a smile unzips across your face, gaze at your reflection and all you see is an endless maze.
We have reached the point of no return, you have no choice but to embrace the gathering dark.
The currency is forgiveness but our pockets are empty.
You think that dying alone is inevitable and the "antihero" of our hearts never gets the girl.
But it doesn't have to be that way just for the sake of poetry. Drop the broken sword.
Indelible feelings brought us to the table, a setting of conjecture and dying settlements. The question is "Who deserves peace?"
Pick up the pen and write your name.

"...and then we get up at the **** crack of dawn, eat cereal for breakfast, take a cool shower to put some pep in our steps, then get in the car and drive around listening to our favorite music until the coffee shop opens."

pause

"And when we've finished our morning coffee and people-watching we walk around town looking at all the crap we want to get when we've saved up enough money for it and then get a slice of pizza or something. You know what happens next? We take our favorite books or whatever and go chill in a hammock that we set up in a corner of the college campus. You want me to bring my guitar so you can listen to the silly ditties I come up with on the spot? Sure. You want to go to a movie? Just say the word."

pause

"I don't really care what we do, as long as we're content. I'm just throwing out ideas."

pause

"I just want to give."

puts down mic and walks off stage

adjective
Tired, bored, or lacking enthusiasm, typically after having had too much of something.

"What? Would you like a crown and scepter to go along with that golden throne you've built out of your expectations? You put so much into one person that you don't want to try it again because you didn't get what you wanted in return? Good lord. This world has bred some spineless humans. I'm sorry, but it's all on you."

pause

"I don't know, call me a sociopath. Whatever."

Tick tock says the clock
I might take a walk
I have counted all the cracks
In every single pane of glass
Look outside beyond the wall
All those trees growing tall

I turn and I am swallowed
By this space that I have made
Sinking through the tiles I have placed

Waking up to the moon's bright gaze
Tick tock it could be too late
Quickly don your twisted shape

Stepping lightly along the path
Following shadows that cover the grass
Why did I leave?

I close my eyes and listen to the whispering breeze...

There is a place caught between this one and another.

Found in cracks running along walls and in the space between trees during the night.

Hidden in the deeper dark, held in endless twilight.

A place, where in looking long enough, you may find the shadows looking back.

This small world, filled with the skittering and scuttling of small things and the glint of small eyes in the everblack.

Do not worry.

You are welcome in my realm.

Patron: "...And can you add the diced Hamlet to that omelette?"

Waiter: "Jolly good sir, and do you know if you'll be having dessert?"

Patron: "Oh yes, I'll have a strawberry Shakespeare."

Waiter: "Brilliant, your omelette will be out before you can say 'Ides of marshmallow'."

Patron: "That was dreadful and you know it."

Waiter: "Deary me, sir."

END SCENE