in this place
a thousand lives have burned
some bright as stars
others dim as night
one life or a thousand
each two eyes looking at the end
the same name
the same words
the breath of the last
still hanging in the air
the final prayer
still echoing across the room
yet never touched or heard
sealed by time
only grasping
never to walk the circle full
only actors in a play of shadows
reciting inevitable lines
looking out from their own box
to wonder if someone's looking in
a beckoning stillness ever present
looming behind the curtain
to sleep again
and break the cycle
as each path crumbles down to ash
never to reach the light of day
this place remains
the stage of time