Musings

Belief is a strange thing. It seems despite having proof my father has come back from the grave. Those closest to me do not believe me. Instead they stick to their dull lives planning their daily routines. There isn’t much substance to be had. There is much to be said about their disbelief of my situation. The fact that I cannot explain what has happened nor can I justify it. I’m one step closer to figuring out how Uncle Claudius killed my father. Why my mother stays with him is beyond me. Thus my world is falling apart, the woman I love is betraying me and is fickle in her dealings, what to do about a woman whose words are soft but her intentions are harsh.

The Meek shall inherit the earth.

Musings

Madness

I don’t like it here

It’s dark in here
who are you?

What are you doing?

Who keeps me here
You’re not real

What is our purpose?

I’m trapped in myself

I don’t blame you
It’s silent in here
What are you?

What haven’t you done?

You keep yourself here
I’m as real as you

One cannot escape themselves

Madness

Ophelia

Ophelia, a delicate rose
whose nature is so gentle
it as if there is a moment
where she can be torn in two.
Her fragility mirrored
by her soft looks,
despite harsh upbringing.
Oh, she is but a sweet, caring woman,
whose intentions can be murky,
but of good heart.
Her lips, what beauty,
as beautiful as a sunrise,
tried and true.

A succubus,
able to entice men to do
her bidding,
my Uncle’s charge,
she decieves me in my life.
Curse her and her ability to
weaselher way into my life,
she will turn men against her
and cuckold him with her beauty.
She will give her husband
horns with her inevitable
impurity.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

pink-roses-wide-wallpaper-5029

 

Ophelia

Alas, poor Yorick

Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a fellow
of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hath
borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how
abhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rims at
it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know
not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your
gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment,
that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one
now, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen?
Now get you to my lady’s chamber, and tell her, let
her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must
come; make her laugh at that. Prithee, Horatio, tell
me one thing.

tennant_and_tchaikowsky_as_hamlet_and_yorick

Alas, poor Yorick

Uncle Claudius Did It

I just know Uncle Claudius did it, he always was a jealous man. He hath taken my father’s life in order to advance his own agenda, he is no better than the serpent in Genesis, lying to get what he wants. If only I could prove Claudius’ guilt to the world, perhaps I would be seen in a more amiable light instead of one of the depressed son of a king.

I must eradicate this man and his sniveling incompetence. His shady dealings and lack of compassion.

Uncle Claudius Did It

Sleep

Sleep away the day let dreams be captured

You’re safer than you were yesterday

Don’t let the moment pass when it’s raptured

The night will drag on while you lay

When you wake go on more adventures

To capture the moments still waiting

Ignoring the fears that turn to censures

Don’t let yourself down without fighting

A man only knows his life is boring

When he does not  embrace his true calling

Do not waste your dreams with hope of snoring

Trust yourself to stop from falling

There are things in life we do not know

We will only learn them when they show

 

Sleep