If you’ve ever had the chance to create a completely new game, You know fans have streamed in, even before you give it a name, Rules are the first thing you’ll soon find the need to reframe, And before
The lights were already on, when I first came to be onstage, Nobody had asked me, but I’m sure staying there was courage, No idea what the others were going to say or do, was I even an actor?
How often do you notice the death of a single dream, Seeing the last drop dry up from its parched stream, But you don’t really mind, pronouncing not even a tiny scream, As if having anticipated they were all meant
People mistakenly think the darkest hour, is the one before dawn, The darkest hour, is one at which hope has finally withdrawn, Without hope, helplessness is the only player still in the game, But with nobody to play against, the
One of the few things noticed while walking in a maze, Is how earnestly the next turn is beseeching you gaze, Although you already know this isn’t any race, Yet, you fervently want to just get out of the place.