Ophelia

From the once crisp leaves of the lonely volume
cried the sacred voice of ages past
Her soul screams of the maddening love that possessed her
Skin, soft. Lips, red. And furiously searching eyes
had once been mirrored in the reflection of this now sullied corpse
Persuasive words fallen from the princely mouth of the ambitious lover
etched in the depths of her tormented heart
The vulnerable being received what he gave her-
and, oh, the enchanting whispers she had received
Collected by her mind and clung to by her heart
So shaken she, when stripped of her prince,
was taunted by his loathsome words, destroying all
Yet, not this solitary sorrow captivated her.
As a rapier from his fell hands became theft of her father’s life.
Hopelessly deserted as life collapsed
her mind escaped with the discordant moans of her soul.
There she wooed the liberty of insanity
Emotions convulsing beneath the skin
she retreated to the silent waters
The unrelenting storm inside her raged
and began to own her,
with a last breath of despair she submitted
And sunk as the vain torments of her heavy life floated away
She sacrificed her soul, her sanity
which true love, or explanation could not requite
Encased by the bonds of the author’s ink,
her passion still burns
For what mortal could comprehend
the pathos that did her own.

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