Might i have but half a dream?
a prayer, a song or even
a wish of solitude, or a friend?
may the life of a distant foe
affect the way i love?
a cup, a sip of clear waters
with a taste of hot acid
makes a poison
only second to Romeo's
keeping me alive just
to see Juliet's waking face.
a dagger to end the short-lived pain
and bring the worst of enemies together.
i try to fake, to distort
the clean image of a prince,
but i only see the drowning face
of my sweet Ophelia, and
i myself drown with the thought
and i ask,"to be, or not to be.."
it is in fact to be
for which would be the greatest tragedy,
to live in death, or to die in love?
