"Theatre of Death" by Christina Lee

Theatre of Death

Empty red rows

Form an intimidating view to the center

A stage filled with dust on its floors

And a blood-red curtain

That hide the eyes away from the un-acted performance

The ghosts that have faded from memory

Sit expectantly

All somber and still

With their pale and transparent sheen

Some still stained with the tears from their loved ones

Drops of red that make them stand out

But others are far too lost

The only red are the chairs that they are sitting upon

Suddenly, the curtains open

And actors begin to perform

A tale of happiness or a tale of woe?

They are skeletons

Their shaking limbs are dancing

From their necks, there is fastened a large chain

They are puppets

But unseen is the guiding hand

The Song of Life

Those skeletons perform their lifeless dancing

Their expressionless gestures, stating that they are longing for life

Causes the ghosts to laugh

For they can relate

But then the scene changes

The Song of Death

The skeletons drop

The audience waits expectantly

But while the meaning sinks in

The wise ghosts begin to lament

Theirs whimpers resounding in this Theatre of Death

For they are haunted by what they had lost

And as the curtains close

The tragedy of death is realized by all

And the theatre moans with the pitiful cries of the long dead¡­

Kristen Sun ¡¯03