This is the way
Hope falters
Ebbing like a dying flame

This is the way
Innocence is lost
With whispers
And secrets

This is the way
A girl loses her mind
In silence

This is the way
Pain exists
In the shadows
Of the soul

This is the way
A life can end
An accumulation of sorrow
And the cage closing in

Days like this
When deception follows sorrow
And grief follows anger
When the face becomes hideous
Beastlike with savage redness
And rough and dry
When the gold necklace
Becomes glued to the chest
With so many tears
And the salt remains on the neck and cheeks-
The speckled aftermath of rage
Days like this
When the cage is closing in
Tighter, tighter, the bars gnawing my skin
When everything is parched, brittle
The throat, the eyes, the thoughts
The night consumes itself
No remembrance of sleep, no memory of peace
Waking up to the same life
Same acerbity of disgust
Waking up to the mirror
Reflecting everything

There is no relief

The last time I see their eyes
The final exhale
Smoke and soft ignorance
Mingling through white teeth
The last dawn, the last noon, the ultimate sunset
All silent, as if awaiting..
And the last drop of water on untainted skin
The last sip, last bite, last puff
Last Cheshire smile
Disintegrating into darkness
Before the final twist of the knife

In fair Verona where Will set the scene
Belle Fortune moves the markers up and down.
Two households both alike in dignity
Fiercely compete for fear of losing ground.

When Juliet saw Romeo at the dance
Events were set in motion that, perchance,
Would see fair Juliet as our Romeo’s bride
but ultimately result in her suicide.

With Tybalt and Mercutio both dead,
And Capulet and Montague estranged.
Young Paris sought fair Juliet to wed
not knowing of her loss of maiden-head.

Romeo was banished for his crime,
a sin for which a peasant would have died
Their two households, joined because they wed,
remained divided by their foolish pride.

Summer’s fierce heat shimmered in the air,
oppressive in the absence of a breeze.
With Friar Lawrence’s help, Romeo’s girl played dead,
as if struck down by some unknown disease


Romeo , in Mantua, heard that his Juliet
Lay dead amongst the sleeping Capulets.
A draught of deadly poison he obtained
So they might sleep together once again.

When Romeo met Paris at her tomb,
Words led to swordplay, leaving Paris dead.
Would not the world have been a better place
if Romeo had kept it sheathed instead?

Unshriven, Romeo drank the poison down-
the only son of Montague now dead.
Perchance just then fair Juliet revives
Bereaved, she took his Dirk to bed instead.

Authorities, arriving at the scene,
could only mourn a brace of kinsmen lost.
Capulet and Montague were reconciled
Their amity bought at a fearful cost.

With downcast eyes
They headed down,
a mother and her son.
Tears now seemed
in short supply,
both emotionally numb.
John looked back
At the vacant cross
where brother Jesus died.
Low grey clouds
obscured the sun
where He was crucified.
At times like this
it’s hard to hope.
And most forget to pray.
“It is finished.” Jesus said
Of this, our Passion Play.