Saturday, April 28, 2007

Ophelia

Ophelia

Dancing in a stage
the black procession;
a possible meaning to her life,
a “maybe” in the love of a man,
a prince;
the dreamer that she dreams.

And while her father smiles,
a shadow takes you by her hand
-the smile always seems so sad-
whispering in your ear
some words you cannot forgive:
let’s fly.

Water enters the body
and a silent weep dies,
there is a smell of vengeance,
blood and tears that no one cried.

Ophelia is dead by the river,
her naked body left aside,
may her dreams be forgotten ,
may her poem soak the sky .

Spart Gregory

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