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A sort-of lyric, sort of poem..well, more like a story maybe. |
The Reversed Script Dimensions are just a formal way of placing my perception The theatre is closed, the curtains are ravelling into threads Spins around the moving dark as light catches in for a second The scenes will play, the script will be reversed again to see And to make the emotions feel through any less darker day Time watches, sits in the front line to see this all move He holds my hand and whispers it’ll be my shadow in the mirror Since there were never any reflections of me in this all The hours move backwards so I see him smile and shine, He never lets go of me as the play moves on in silence, As the end becomes the beginning I’ll linger here until the beginning My words are laid out on the wooden floor where the holes found All of their places to embrace the light that seems to get through As this scene follows the reversed script and lets me fall down in cold, The warmth of knowing the fact it’s just another line coming closer It’s settled in the director’s heart as mine goes through those holes Leave me bleeding, leave me in this silent emptiness The curtains wave along with the haunting voices breathing in the words But there’s still glass on the floor, the broken chairs and even the stage Seems to be touched by Time and my hands which feared the play A perception is just a formal way of placing my dimensions Through the edges of the script I carve out another moment, Placed within the sentences formed by the actor’s breath It survived another storm waving along these raveled curtains Into the solace there is another scene taken its place in my presence Time watches, sits in the front line to see this all move He takes my heart and shows me the grinded seconds The hours I once knew move backwards and release me, He never lets go of me as the scenes move on in perfection, The light becomes dark and the dark makes my heart weaker Into the storm of the words I used to breathe I gasp for the air Is there anything besides the truth that can kill the hard lines All of my words seem to embrace the light that gets through As this scene follows the reversed script and lets me fall down in cold, The warmth of knowing the fact it’s just another line coming closer It’s settled in the director’s heart as mine goes through those holes It’ll be another scene skipped through its life, The curtains wave along with the haunting voices breathing in the words And there’s still glass on the floor, the broken chairs and even the stage Seems to be touched by Time and my heart which feared the play © Stella Lumina (Ellen Edens) |