Hamlet’s Untold Love for Ophelia

Your love was magic but become tragic

Till death do us part, denied on my part.

Drove to despair by the incestuous pair,

Within my glare. I lost all sight of life

Instead fixed upon matters else where.

Haunted by ghost of a time gone past,

I forgot to remember thee instead.

My verse is my purse and so full of words

My words were unspoken never was said

But thought upon instead, with regretful

Relent of unspent, unrequited love.

Empty words, that are not said are like lead.

The unspent of unsaid have no value.

But value to treasure the words not lost

My words, I give to remember my love.

My Ophelia no more, by long dead gone.

To dream of you instead, sleep spoken word

To reverse the damage undone by me.

My memories, my thought, my words do hurt,

Woe betold I gave thee, undeniably.

Trapped in my world, my world of misery.

But you my fair dear, took me by surprise

Our lovers amuse has become my bruise,

Leaving it’s mark as a deep wounded scar.

We sailed, we failed sunken despair,

Beyond repair to my fair Ophelia,

But must remember to never forget.

Crushed roses scent withered away gone dead

Twisted bowels tear me knotted tied up.

Choked by hand tied lies within my eyes

Haunted by fathers ghost and now by you.

My soul aches, to see your face just one

More time, next to mine, to touch, to see.

This sorry state I hate this scorn of love.

Drowns me deep into the depths of despair,

Like a sea of turbulent troubles

With waves unable to reach the sea bed.

Bounded by love affairs of family ties,

I ponder, to wonder, searching this state

The king’s thorny crown did tickle my frown.

I thought like a fox with a force of an ox,

To capture with art his poison deceit.

To watch him squirming that slippery snake,

And unmask that face, of late I do hate

Deep in my thought a revenge well due,

With this pain in my vain adrenalin rush

Dead rotten corpses as needles do prick.

An empty remain of a skull that lingers

Appearing in sight to baffle my mind.

Does death serve as revenge or make escape?

Most vivid delusion with all confusions

This headfast brain does render me insane,

Like the nuts and bolts that keep me subdued

The clasp holds tight to the luna madness,

As cycles do run but have nowhere to go.

With thoughts running and racing with pacing

Back and forth to and fro around they go.

With all the truth out but no knowledge found

Like a mishap of fate, I know it’s too late

My thought, my being, constantly seeming.

Seems nothing is fair in hate, love or pain

And woe is me, to forget my love again.


Written February 2014 – My take on William Shakespeare’s, Hamlet.

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