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Poor, thou, little girl who thought Love would get to thee one day, Bet thou never thought to expect It would culminate in doom. And I am the resurrection in thy tomb And the life that speaks of mercy at close of day, Muddy Waters carry thou so far away From Polonius and Laertes, Tears in bloom. Denmark's Prince in shambles thine heart left, Dissembling and conniving against kin, In his heart only one ambition firm: Take back his rightful throne and fair Gertrude. Neither Shakespeare nor Victoria save thee could From the evil of the quill, it's own mind set. In the labyrinth of the parchment thine fate met "To be or not to be?" Aye, there's the rub.
0
Feb 23, 2022
Feb 23, 2022 at 10:16 PM UTC
Ophelia
Poor, thou, little girl who thought Love would get to thee one day, Bet thou never thought to expect It would culminate in doom. And I am the resurrection in thy tomb And the life that speaks of mercy at close of day, Muddy Waters carry thou so far away From Polonius and Laertes, Tears in bloom. Denmark's Prince in shambles thine heart left, Dissembling and conniving against kin, In his heart only one ambition firm: Take back his rightful throne and fair Gertrude. Neither Shakespeare nor Victoria save thee could From the evil of the quill, it's own mind set. In the labyrinth of the parchment thine fate met "To be or not to be?" Aye, there's the rub.
Phantomwriter1231
Written by
24/F/Florida
Feb 23, 2022
Feb 23, 2022 at 10:16 PM UTC
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