The Stage unfolds

The curtains have started to rise,
The stage is set, the audience looks on
The spotlight illuminates the center stage
Act zero: The voice beams from within.

                        Silence grips the actor
                        Stage fright or a deep concentration?
                        The comfort of the green room
                         Has to be forgotten, and ignored.

Act One: I'm here, darkness,
The spotlight glows ever so slightly
And you emerge, my illumination
I have to reach you, but chains bind me.

                          Fade to Black
                          Blue and red lights take over

Several chains hang from the ceiling
Morality, Ideology, Hopes, Desires
The hue turns yellow as a siren sounds
The chains oscillate rapidly, the lights go out.

                            Act Two: I have my feather and ink
                            Green light shines on you far away
                            Leaflets fly around the auditorium
                            The universe someday shall know my past.

You speak: "You are not the soldier I dreamt of,
Neither are you the magician of my childhood;
You live in your closet, immersed in your invisible ink"
I feel numb, the bottle isn't empty, don't you see the leaflets?

                               "No, I don't! I believe what I see
                                You live in your illusions, in your fortress"
                                I want to complain but I refrain
                                My ink has left me, my truth hasn't, yet.

Bells toll continuously
Yellow and red lights play
All around the stage
Curtains come down...           

                                                    INTERVAL

A Strange Poem

A bone hangs from the ceiling
With blood dripping like tears
And the Sandman wakes up
Deep in the moon-lit desert;
And last remnants of this grass
Turns towards the light, the fire.

Here I am, writing for myself
Words in me, through me, for me
In a world of my harmony, peace
Nostalgia, curse, insult and stings
I lay bare my arms, good and bad
With a locked door and a wry grin.

A movement, a failure, a beginning
My path has crumbled time and again
The ash floats around me with a sneer
Asking questions about the origin,
The end, the versatile chameleon
Will survive among the bones of winter.