We unpack our hearts' words, unfolding our souls
We know what we are but not what we may be
We are the falling leaf in autumnal wind
'Tis season's shift that mists a souls' content
We are a glass full, brimming to be poured out,
Fear drives the self toward the drought of selfishness
We are song in crescendo, and silence in farewell
Yet courage oft' comes like a surprise snowfall
We are a wave rising up, only to descend upon the rocks
Bringing bitter remembrances of faded pasts
We exist in a paradox, whose key rests in the palm of Time
We know what we are, but not what we may be
Sep 2, 2013
Sep 2, 2013 at 1:23 AM UTC
We unpack our hearts' words, unfolding our souls
We know what we are but not what we may be
We are the falling leaf in autumnal wind
'Tis season's shift that mists a souls' content
We are a glass full, brimming to be poured out,
Fear drives the self toward the drought of selfishness
We are song in crescendo, and silence in farewell
Yet courage oft' comes like a surprise snowfall
We are a wave rising up, only to descend upon the rocks
Bringing bitter remembrances of faded pasts
We exist in a paradox, whose key rests in the palm of Time
We know what we are, but not what we may be
I wrote this last year... Not sure what to make of it. Musing on the tumultuous details and undertones of Hamlet and Ophelia's relationship. Read as a conversation, aside. Ideas for developing it further or tips from those of you who know the play are appreciated!
