A Ghost Play

It is about an almost love affair.

Crawling into the thrust
Whimsies and riddles of trust
Set the tune for the prologue fast
So to behold and be told by the cast

And, aye! the scarlet drapery 
Inch by inch rose in rosary
Thrilling both orchestra and balcony
Pitching various keys of agony

Then, synchronizing the steps of light
The plot rigged for flight
But the air capsized, unappeased
Thus the plot choked and so ceased

And the plot tripped on a prop
By which each made a clop
Of the shadows both had sought
Yet neither for it the plot fought

So, the dances, the songs
The lyrics, the gongs
Held back their bongs
And curled up their tongues

The lyres, guitars, pianos and other bars
Curtailed the hits and plucks of their hours
No loose ends for said strings 
Strings divorced from spelled beginnings

The chairs began cheering
Cheering at the panting
Pair forming- paralyzing
Cranes left hovering
On the soliloquies muted and fainting-withering.

Hence, we'd reached the curtain call
Even without the play commencing at all
Because the actors did nothing
But acted no acting
Applause, applause
To a showless show
Denied of surface
Yet embroidered by space
Lost its meter and almost rime
But jibed and scribed by the ubiquitous hands of chime.