Time cut short,
thy fiery blossom,
delicate and ancient repentance
that evokes compassion in passers by.
Betrayed by circumstance,
set adrift by love delayed
and forced to wander silently
through the lies and deceit
that cloud the house of Denmark.
Open not your mind to pain,
that seeps through cracks in cloister walls,
for life in all her agony teaches
internal bitterness to those
who press on through the undisclosed.
The willow weeps a rustled dirge
for one who’s time has been cut short,
as water rushes the river bed
that carries off our last refrains.
We may never know the hand
that fate has cast you in reprise.
Was it by thy hand, or nature’s grace,
did take you from us by and by?
As men contest who loved thee more,
and ladies hold thy memory to their breast,
let us remember your innocence,
and the void you now have left.
Love denied is a powerful thing,
and one tragedy avoided
can often bring another out to play.
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