Will the overture start: A poem

Sitting here on the floor,

Waiting for the dawn of the show.
Pondering if it will snow.
For let the snow falls upon me.
Let it cover me.

Will the overture start?

Will the curtain arise?
Is this a mirage?
Or just some ticket to pardise?
Time will only tell.

There I am; snow covered and cold

Shivering to beat of the drums.
Tapping my heart to the guitar.
For my mind is slipping, slipping way
and wondering

Will the overture start?

Will the curtain arise?
Is this a mirage?
Or just some ticket to pardise?
Time will only tell.

The performer is only an ephemeral existence.

We are their congregation.
Timeless, still
Eerie music surrounds.

Will the overture start?

Will the curtain arise?
Is this a mirage?
Or just some ticket to pardise?
Time will only tell.