Stage

On the creaking boards of the old theatre,
Lights spill amber like sunrise over a sleepy town,
Actors tread the stage, their voices a quiet hum
That swells to a chorus, then fades to a sigh.

Curtains rise, a velvet breath held tight,
Scenes unfurl—comedy, tragedy, a whispered secret—
Each footfall a heartbeat, each pause a held breath,
Turning flesh and fear into something timeless.

When the final bow is taken, the applause rolls in,
A warm tide that washes over the weary souls,
And the stage, though empty, still hums with the echo
Of stories lived, of dreams acted out beneath the footlights.