(After Shakespeare)
On a cold winter night,
Of black velvet skies,
Sequined in stars,
In the ramparts of the castle,
A soul arrives.
In a fright,
The watchmen pried,
In the sight of the ghost,
King Hamlet lied.
The Prince was called and learned,
His father was murdered, too confirmed.
“Claudius, the one on my throne,
The husband of Gertrude, my own,
For my slayer, I seek revenge,
Son, for your father’s peace, you must avenge.”
Prince, for his father’s glory,
And musing,
Submits himself to a deep melancholy.
Baffled, the King and the queen,
To spy,
Employ Prince’s friends,
Suggests Polonius,
In each other, his daughter and the Prince,
Meet their ends.
Though the Prince seems mad,
Dejected, oblivion clad,
Charmless, him for Ophelia,
Orders her to enter a nunnery,
Ban these marriages, said he fiercely in a summary.
Between life and death, he was tasked,
TO BE OR NOT TO BE, a question he asked.
Now, the Prince seized a plan,
Invited the travelling actors to act,
Sequencing the murdering fact,
Knowing that in remorse,
Claudius would certainly react.
The moment did come,
Claudius did leap and haste,
For his heinous sin,
Had been offered the bitter taste.
Dwelled in the name of Jesus,
The sinister lay,
Thought the Prince,
In prayer if death shall come,
The demon would find heaven’s way.
A piece of wisdom Hamlet attained,
For the sake of Jesus, he refrained.
Fretted, coward now craved for peace,
A little ploy he planned,
For him to cease,
Ordered Prince to be sent to England.
Then went Hamlet to his mother,
To confront his bother,
There behind a tapestry hid Polonius,
Supposed the Prince King’s existence in a fuss,
Stabbed through the fabric and drilled,
Poor Ophelia’s father was killed.
Emerged the ghost and questioned,
“Wake up, son! What are you doing?
See what deaths you are pursuing.”
Causing the Empire a dent,
Prince with his friends was finally sent.
To leave no trace, Claudius wrote the King a letter,
Commanded to kill the latter.
Fate favoured the Prince this time,
Pirates did their splendid crime,
Back with calmness he returned,
Frowned, frustrated, Claudius turned.
And now, Ophelia resided in distress,
Her smile of a madwoman, so witless.
Arrived Laertes, her brother, anguished,
Said Claudius, “Kill Hamlet,
For your father’s demise won’t go unpunished”.
In the river drowned herself she,
Of the burden of despair, she did free.
At the funeral, Hamlet passed by,
Wondered for whom these souls cry.
Ran he in fury to the grave,
“Oh, Not Ophelia”, wept the brave.
Her brother in rage
sprang at the Prince,
Both did wrestle and wince.
Shrewd Claudius had now set a bet,
To which agreed Hamlet.
Unsurprisingly, King played a fraud,
Held Laertes the poisoned sword.
Not even the wine he left,
As refreshment it was kept.
Prince made the first hit,
Seemed to win with his wit.
In happiness, mother sank,
To taste her son’s
success,
The poisoned wine she drank.
Laertes struck out at Hamlet,
Rapier’s sting he felt.
In an undignified brawl, both engaged,
In a moment, their swords exchanged.
Wounded deeply the swordsman’s art,
Poison went straight to Laertes’s heart.
“No, the drink! I’m poisoned”, queen whispered,
Called Laertes, “Hamlet, you too are murdered”,
No one except the King was to blame,
For he lit the hatred’s flame.
Thoughtless, Hamlet sank the sword in King’s chest,
Forced the last drops of tainted wine in extreme detest.
Prince's father’s death had been avenged,
And all the hatred, equally revenged.
End of tyrannical violence,
The rest is silence.
