And sometimes the moon returns to a deserted stage.
Attired in fullness, the last actor who forgot that the hall was empty and he must leave.
Tonight the moon did not wear his hat.
Shorn of the pages of the diary he scribbled his notes in,
the Moon looked over the ramparts where
the candles used to burn and shed their light.
The regular visitor who frequented the shrine
on every such full-moon night
stood aghast, breathed in the silence
and gathering his steps in a single stride
went ahead to walk in the footsteps of the
one who left no footprints behind
Attired in fullness, the last actor who forgot that the hall was empty and he must leave.
Tonight the moon did not wear his hat.
Shorn of the pages of the diary he scribbled his notes in,
the Moon looked over the ramparts where
the candles used to burn and shed their light.
The regular visitor who frequented the shrine
on every such full-moon night
stood aghast, breathed in the silence
and gathering his steps in a single stride
went ahead to walk in the footsteps of the
one who left no footprints behind
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