Armor of my play

THE ARMOR OF MY PLAY Setting: The ruins of an ancient Great Theater. The stage is littered with broken props and tattered curtains. In the center stands a suit of armor made of gold-leafed wood, velvet, and glowing parchment. ACT I: THE FORGE OF FICTION (The music is rhythmic and percussive, like the sound of a stagehand hammering a set together.) The iron didn't come from a mountain or a mine, It was pulled from the rhythm of a perfect, spoken line. The breastplate is the prologue, sturdy and thick, Built from the mortar and the theater’s brick. The gauntlets are the gestures of a thousand different hands, Refining the power that the lead role commands. I don’t wear the metal of a soldier or a king, I wear the echo of the songs the chorus used to sing. It’s a shell made of stories, a casing made of light, Designed to keep the actors safe throughout the winter night. When the world starts to crumble and the sky begins to gray, I step into the shelter of the Armor of My Play.