Work Text:
(Chorus enters, harmonizing)
In the shadow of myths,
Greek echoes unfold,
A man in line with love yet untold.
(Opening number, Hannibal's Solo)
Surgeon's hands, steady and sure,
Yet a lonely heart, love to secure.
Maestro, a cook, crafting art I grasped,
Longing for meaning, longing for light.
In the line of men, where do I stand?
Waiting for the first page of my tale.
A symphony note, a longing cry,
When will my tale begin, oh, why?
(Hannibal, reaching towards the white statue of a man)
Achilles and Patroclus, a love so divine,
In their shadows, I stand in line.
Theseus and Pirithous, bound so tight,
Waiting for love to take its flight.
Orestes and Pylades, loyalty to the end,
In their myth, my heart must mend.
Alexander and Hephaestion, conquerors of strife,
In the tapestry of love, a thread of life.
So here I stand, in the line of fate,
Yearning for a love, not too late.
In the garden of time, where questions spin,
When will my story begin?
With laughter and tears, the twists of fate,
A man in line, for my turn I wait.
Their life sipped out, from my hands
like the bleeding pomegranate seeds.
(The stage dims, leaving Hannibal in the spotlight)
Young Adonis left my side, but I remain
In my bed, his ghost awaits
As the light fades, and shadow flame,
My yearning heart is laid bare again.
(The stage goes dark as the first act comes to an end)