The Auditorium is hollow, reflective.
Lips part, breath escapes, forever lost
within the Auditorium.
Uttered word, so loud against willing ears.
Twice, three, fourth, fifths.
Echoing off the walls
to ride waves of invisibility
back to me.
"We're not fighting our own war now!"
A scream, from all directions?
No, from the stage.
Shadowed figure, no light, where's the markup?
"We're letting them guide us
by our open, willing hands!"
Shouting, darkened persona, upon the stage?
The seats are empty, who's this person...
"How can we stand for this?
How can we let them rob us
of our very Freedom!"
There, second row, another figure.
Peering eyes try to focus on the
dark, hollow Auditorium.
"We are not to be pushed aside
while our Leader takes us to war!"
This figure, seated in the second row
who's hands come together like murky water.
"We will not be led blindly!
This is not our war!"
Shadow on the stage...gone.
Shadow in the seat...gone.