Epilogue of the Final Act

...a narrative prose poem by Harlon Rivers

Epilogue of the Final Act

The plush crimson velvet curtain fell downward in hushed silence

a glimmering rainbow of accent lighting, faded from the stage

Whispers of an exhaled sigh echoed through the silence 

when the electricity of excitement was abruptly ignored.

It was as if some plug had been purposely pulled,

deflating the mystical illusion of vast possibilities

Sounds of silent darkness echoed

off the rising empty tiers within the Paramount's walls 

There would be no melodramatic curtain call for the final finishing act   

The protagonist knew the charade of believing it could be more

than a five act charade was now over.

Closing night was the beginning of the carefully ended tragedy

The beautiful starlet heroine politely curtsied,

Acknowledging the applause of her adoring audience,

discreetly tiptoeing out the stage back door vanishing with the blink of an eye

Simply to fly away to some unknown distant horizon,

never to look back at what might have been.

Never a bluebird remembering to finish what had begun

Another door slammed in the face of hope while grasping

at the fading silent reverie of  meaningless promises

For those left behind... it was a “not so grand” finale;      

the conclusive recital was watching a disappearing act

vanish from plain site like a well executed magic trick

Realizing even the most devout fan, would no longer stand for an encore

The promising stage play of an artist’s theatrical dream was over

Fantasy had evolved into the reality of heartbreaking intuition

Leaving only traces of what had seemed real

and yet, only the memory of a convincing performance

fogged the haze, obscuring the ruble that remained

Dust tarnishing the luster in the aftermath of foregone conclusions

The set’s intricate details painted the sky's azure

as dark and ominous as the hour was late 

The black cloud that had constantly hovered overhead,

rained down on the ominous scene in a concluding crescendo

Heavy atmosphere brought the last standing soul,

onto the stone cold floor

A scorned lover was quietly lamenting 
into the lurid obscurity of the lonely night …

Only a faint shadow of vague dignity 
veiled the last muttered thoughts

With a reserved demure, he melodramatically exclaimed 
while crawling away on his knees:

“ The dream is over!"….…" love has lost the rhythm to its rhyme!”

“Somehow I believed it would be a different song sung!” 

© 2013  …Harlon Rivers  … All Rights Reserved