If the World is a Stage, Who Wrote the Script?

The man looked at the faces of the crowd that had gathered.
In some he saw triumph, others showed their sadness and pain.
He saw those who had helped him get to where he was.
He saw others who wished he was still with them.

This sort of fame was a bitter sweetness.
Today, he was the focus of the whole world;
Whether that was good or bad was irrelevant.
He had known from birth that he was destined to for this fame.
He knew that what he would do today would go down in history.
He knew what he would do today would change the world forever.

Yet, somehow, he still felt strangely unprepared.
As the time approached,
He felt a wave of emotions race through him,
Stronger than anyone had ever felt.

He felt sadness for the family he was leaving.
He felt fear for what was to come.
He felt pity for those who had wronged him.
He felt joy for all he had accomplished.

Above all, he felt pride.
He had performed his best.
He had said his lines.
He had played the role.

He looked up to the sky.
The clouds were gathering;
The curtains were closing.
The man closed his eyes and said a prayer.

God looked down at what had just happened.
He was satisfied.
The Script He had written had been perfectly performed.
The act was over, the play that would forever change humanity.

Just a little prose I wrote about a year ago...thought I'd post it...feel free to comment