Lord Hamlet, thou hath put me end of road
Thou knows me not, i am no fishmonger
Thy remark on my daughter is merely
a copy of deception of thy noble mouth
Oh my lord, thou even called me an ass as if
I am nothing but a tool for thy use
Or rather a use to humor thy mad soul
A soul of tis madness engraves in thee
For was not to my God and noble King
I would hath thy soul buries right away
Hamlet, thou really hath become mad of love
Love that is mad hath thy soul in it hand
Vengence, it is not what thou sickly seek now?
Oh lord hamlet how shall i deal with thee?
Thy maddness is truely the mourn of all
Words, words, words...
14 years ago
Oh father, father, tell me why I cannot be with Hamlet. Tis love we hold is true and all I have. Why can’t tis love be? My lord, he hath importuned me with love. I cannot be patient any longer. And yet to times in hope, all I can do is weep. I pray to God that all will be well soon. So please, let my love be with the one I truly love. But for now I shall obey, my lord.
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