On Hamlet

18 02 2006


A quiet spring in the living soul,
Can erode the timeless foundations.
The spectre of doubt, shades
The happy ground I would now stand on,

Like the imminent plague
That buries us all,
My life stands upon a precipice,
Between a lack of action and
A lifetime of acting.

If we do indeed
In these mortal moments design
An immortal end,
Then that which time does not affect,
Will itself render me dead.

For I do choose to set apart
From the weary-worn and narrow path to th’ above,
And from the untrodden roads that go below,
I will navigate a middle way,
Letting reason battle faith,
And upon the resolution,
I will, from the pleasing skin, escape.



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