O Shakespeare Moderne

Thief
2 min readJan 8, 2022

be done with it!

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The eternal spring comes not from external joys, nor comforts
But finds its latency in an internal void
Whereby darkness foists a ruinous subjugation upon our contentious souls
To let light penetrate only at the periphery
Thus infecting the mere cockles of our heart
Whereby warmth is cooled to make cold
And by sleuth or by slander
Renders truth’s values near worthless
Abundant by supply and traded to the highest bidder
Most sumptuously savored while fresh
Stripped ripe flesh of all virility
And thus only to become old, misused and forgotten

And whereby ignorance frees us from the eternal damnation of our rotting core
Whence by thought or soliloquy we may launch a thousand poisonous arrows
Wreaking havoc on even the most common souls
We dance in the cesspools of mistrust and indifference
Only to leave us sweltering in the vagueness of our own conscience
Where love underperforms all validity
And is usurped by the misdemeanors of our frozen hearts
Then where doth thou moral pining’s find solace
But in the virtues inherited by the weakest of wills
To triumph over one’s own lost soul…

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