but for an Act

But one question left to ask myself,
is it, an Act of beauty?

But for an Act, of beauty, cast upon this stage
burns a play

and for what gallery
esteemed, enchased, in audience beyond
the limelight glare?

Perhaps these trains of passion
nothing more than a soliloquy

of madness

played to a silent house
an empty room
an open door.

But until the curtained fall embraced
in ring of absence, or
round applause

but for an Act, of beauty let us take our breaths away take

this place,
upon our stage.