Opening of the Last Night
Overture floods sacred seconds
as well-worn dread clings like a
stale apostle before betrayal.
Seat 2 in row N is my island
confessional from which all lies
are learned and recited.
I sit patiently staring at the
crimson curtain that hides all
God’s sainted abominations.
When it finally rises, will there
be redemption, retribution or
ultimate recognition?
Lights slowly fade down in this
hallowed auditorium where
Omega eats Alpha and sleeps.
Billowing velvet floats into night
as a figure enters and silently
stands center stage.
He is my new past.
A sentinel blurred, but certain.
The show has begun.
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