one man show by Alex thaler

A glass clinks.
The applause begins.
The man takes a seat.

He sits in the front of fifty onlookers,
But hears only himself once the lights go out.
The performance starts.

He attempts a call and response in his first verse,
But hears no souls in his new universe—
A world emerging from the loneliest parts of his mind.
He panics, scavenging for a trace of the world suddenly left behind—
Screaming out in agony as the threads of his reality unwind.
He cries, shouts, and insists this isn’t an act,
But rather he’s gone deep into a place devoid of human contact—
Into a hell only in his mind that cannot distinguish fear from fact.
He begs for others to see his inner pains—
His for salvation from his inner darkness wanes—
As his internal ruins cannot match his external melodic refrains.

Did the partygoers go blind as he grew scared?
Was it all in his head that the world no longer cared?
Could all the innocence he once knew to be true be lost in a day?
Did the crowd grow angry as his voice began to fray?
What repressed fears emerged in him as his confidence was stripped away?
The man felt the crowd lose interest as his voice fell dull.
He felt his futility. His hopes of survival grew null.
He felt himself slip. His mind conjured up easy but costly ways out.
After dozens more unheard prayers to bring a him soul to save him from burnout,
He relinquishes the desire to fix his brain, suddenly too twisted about.

He sees a flash of light and his body reconnects to the party around him.
He looks around as his hands hold him to his chair for fear of losing touch with Earth again.
He tastes the tears that suddenly trickle down his cheek.

A choir of concerned partygoers storm the stage to retrieve the wrecked performer.
The crowds ask what went wrong while the man shakes and sobs.
The performance is over.