The Theatre of Broken Eyes

Welcome… to the theatre… Where curtains cry and violins bleed. Each mask a mirror — shattered in grace, Each whisper… a dagger with no need. We drank ink from broken pens, Scribbled prayers on dead men’s skin. The puppets twitch - their eyes sewn shut While angels laugh in porcelain sin. She said… “The moon never weeps… unless it watches me sleep.” And then she smiled… like a blade in velvet. Dance, oh marionette divine! Let fire kiss your fragile spine. The theatre’s closed, but still it plays In every dream that death delays. [Instrumental – music only: pipe organ pulse, slow timpani rolls, then pizzicato strings] There is a scream beneath the stage… A hymn too twisted to be caged. We waltz on glass in bloodied grace And call it love. And call it fate. Burn the pages! Break the strings! Let silence rot what memory brings. This curtain falls in shattered light… But in our echo - we ignite.