The tread

Take to the carpet
Feel the weight of the tread;
Of the thousands of footsteps
That marry the dead.

Expectations counted on fingers and thumbs,
Of a million lost souls,
At home with their sums
Calculating the entrance of something so grand
Plotting the demise in the palm of a hand.

If it's all in the show
Then what of this parade?
If fame is light
Cast glory in the shade.