An Old Man sits cross legged stage left. He is wearing all white and is enclosed by black walls. An Old Woman sits cross legged stage right. She is wearing all black and is enclosed by white walls. Centre stage, stood between both enclosers, is a mirror with a sheet tossed beside it.
The Old Woman stands, she pushes at the walls, failing for a time until she finally pushes them down and is free.
Old Man: Wondrous darkness, you absorb my image so fine. You cannot see the depths of my being, nor can I see the shell of my visage.
Old Woman: I will atone for my sins, I shall request the audience of the infallible Athene. Then I shall rise once again to greatness. (Howls in Pain) Ahck! Yes Mother, I vow to thee. I vow my world, my image, my love to you. Bless you fair Mother of the overworld. I am unworthy of your seeping void. Let it take me away to a world so fine and so fruitful where I can sit and erase the deeds of woman from my memory.
(Screams)
Old Woman: (Cries) What such an abominable creature am I? I compare to the creation of that Ingolstadt Doctor, yet my wit and my French do not trounce his. Pourquoi? I am destitute, I am vile… I have been pierced by the disgusting shadow.
Old Man: (Caresses the floor) Black Beauty! Adorable abyss so infinite and warm.
Old Woman collapses to the ground.
Old Man: (Stands and caresses the wall) You understand, you know my pain. I am deterred from corporeality. An Empirical idea, no more, no less. You cannot and I will not accept myself as a Bedrock Preposition as I, like all things, disassemble my atoms at will. I always reform, I never go away, I am immortal, I am un-ageing. Like the deep blackness you pleasantly engulf me in, my image is empty.
The Old Man slams his foot into the floor.
Old Man: Speak you wretched Demon! Talk as you have before! Drown me in your darkness so divine. We are not like them, we are not like these petty fools who wander the vile bright world of today. We are true beings, descended from the loins of Hades. His underworld could not contain us. It could not contain the putrid Aeneas, but we, like the goodly Hektor, stayed in the realms of Tartarus. We have no place in the poisonous Elysium. Please Father. Speak to me once more, climb up from your gelded gates so fine, and drag me deep into your belly of night. Then I can be truly free from fear, free from the disgusting light of the world. The world they describe as hopeful and eternal. They have no hope, they have no eternity. As the revitalising smoke bleeds into the sky, their forever ends as our tomorrow begins. Please Father. Speak to me once more.
The Old Woman turns away from the audience and stares directly into the mirror.
Old Woman: This…. This … My face… So wrought with deep crevasses of time… So so so…
The Old Man curls up in the centre of his enclosure and screams as he bashes the floor with both hands. He lets out a serious of screeches and hisses, unrelenting in his assault of the floor.
END OF ACT.
ACT 2
The Old Woman reaches for the sheet. The lights go on as she pulls the sheet over the mirror. A loud shout is heard.
Old Woman: (Sings) Come to me creature of dark. Shed your chains and feel the pleasant hearth of my heart. Come to me creature so vile and cleanse your soul of one’s tiring reflection. Of one’s tiring, and deathly reflection.
Old Woman: Why must you bath in this dreadful dark? Don’t you realise the warmth of light is greater than night? It is soft. It is tender, but most importantly it is strong and alone. It does not need to be accepted as its acceptance is as intrinsic as its void.
The Old Woman sits in front of the mirror.
Old Woman: Insipid Demon, free me from your grasp. Vile creation, why must we share a bond. A bond so strong it cannot be broken. It cannot be smashed and separated. I want to be free! I want to live! Away from your cursed image.
Old Woman: Ahck! Abomination! Cruel bastard of the natural world. Why do you challenge me Mother? Why do you challenge me so?
The Old Woman stands walks to and begins to pace around her enclosure. She is beginning to get impatient. She charges towards the walls of her enclosure, pulling them up at all sides.
The Old Man begins to pace around his enclosure. He is beginning to get impatient. He charges towards the walls of his enclosure, knocking them down on all sides. He sees the mirror with the dust sheet over it.
Old Man: Ahck! Abomination! Cruel bastard of the natural world. Why do you challenge me Father? Why do you challenge me so?
Old Man: Insipid Demon, free me from your grasp. Vile creation, why must we share a bond. A bond so strong it cannot be broken. It cannot be smashed and separated. I want to be free! I want to live! Away from your cursed image.
Old Man walks towards the mirror and sits down in front of it, fearful of taking off the sheet.
Old Man: Why must you bath in this dreadful light? Don’t you realise the warmth of black is greater than white? It is soft. It is tender, but most importantly it is strong and alone. It does not need to be accepted as its acceptance is as intrinsic as its void.
Old Man: (Sings) Come to me creature of light. Shed your chains and feel the pleasant hearth of my heart. Come to me creature so vile. And cleanse your soul of one’s tiring reflection. Of one’s tiring, and deathly reflection.
The Old Man reaches for the sheet. The lights go off as he pulls the sheet from the mirror. A loud shout is heard.
END OF ACT.
ACT 3
The Old Man stands with his face staring directly into the mirror, his back to the audience. The sheet lies on the floor beside him.
The Old Woman curls up in the centre of her enclosure and screams as she bashes the floor with both hands. She lets out a series of screeches and hisses, unrelenting in her assault of the floor.
Old Man: This…. This … My face… So wrought with deep crevasses of time… So so so…
Turns back to the audience, collapses to the ground.
Old Woman: Speak you wretched Demon! Talk as you have before! Drown me in your lightness so divine. We are not like them, we are not like these petty fools who wander the vile dark world of today. We are true beings, descended from the loins of Hera. Her overworld could not contain us. It could not contain the putrid Hektor, but we, like the goodly Aeneas, stayed in the realms of Elysium. We have no place in the poisonous Tartarus. Please Mother. Speak to me once more, climb down from your gelded gates so fine, and drag me deep into your belly of light. Then I can be truly free from fear, free from the disgusting dark of the world. The world they describe as hopeful and eternal. They have no hope, they have no eternity. As the revitalising sun bleeds into the sky, their forever ends as our tomorrow begins. Please Mother. Speak to me once more.
Old Man: (Cries) What such an abominable creature am I? I compare to the creation of that Ingolstadt Doctor, yet my wit and my French do not trounce his. Pourquoi? I am destitute, I am vile… I have been pierced by the disgusting shine.
(Screams)
The Old Woman slams her foot into the floor.
Old Woman: (Stands and caresses the wall) You understand, you know my pain. I am deterred from corporeality. An Empirical idea, no more, no less. You cannot and I will not accept myself as a Bedrock Preposition as I, like all things disassemble my atoms at will. I always reform, I never go away, I am immortal, I am un-ageing. Like the deep brightness you pleasantly engulf me in, my image is empty.
Old Man: I will atone for my sins, I shall request the audience of the infallible Mephistopheles. Then I shall rise once again to greatness. (Howls in Pain) Ahck! Yes Father, I vow to thee. I vow my world, my image, my love to you. Bless you fair Father of the underworld. I am unworthy of your seeping void. Let it take me away to a world so fine and so fruitful we I can sit and erase the deeds of man from my memory.
Old Woman: (Caresses the floor) Bright Beauty! Adorable abyss so infinite and warm.
Old Woman: Wondrous light, you absorb my image so fine. You cannot see the depths of my being, nor can I see the shell of my visage.
The Old Man stands and runs to his enclosure. He heaves at the walls, failing for a time until he finally pulls them up and is once again confined. He lets out a sigh and sits cross legged in the centre of the enclosure.
An Old Man sits cross legged stage left. He is wearing all white and is enclosed by black walls. An Old Woman cross legged stage right. She is wearing all black and is enclosed by white walls. Centre stage stood between both enclosers is a mirror with a sheet tossed beside it.
END.