deepundergroundpoetry.com
< Lament >
DEMETRIUS:
How now, dear sovereign, and our gracious mother!
Why doth your highness look so pale and wan?
TAMORA:
Have I not reason, think you, to look pale?
These two have 'ticed me hither to this place:
A barren detested vale, you see it is;
The trees, though summer, yet forlorn and lean,
O'ercome with moss and baleful mistletoe:
Here never shines the sun; here nothing breeds,
Unless the nightly owl or fatal raven:
And when they show'd me this abhorred pit,
They told me, here, at dead time of the night,
A thousand fiends, a thousand hissing snakes,
Ten thousand swelling toads, as many urchins,
Would make such fearful and confused cries
As any mortal body hearing it
Should straight fall mad, or else die suddenly.
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(from Titus Andronicus, Act II, scene III)
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< Lament >
Back home (well, take your pick) the toads are green,
While here they're more the color of a brick.
The snakes though, here as there, are sullied black;
And as they hiss, impossible to miss.
- - -
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Published 29th Jul 2012
| Edited 31st Jul 2012
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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The author encourages honest critique.
29th Jul 2012 3:31am
MORE! I immediately thought of Paterson by Williams.....great tie in...
Anonymous
29th Jul 2012 10:43am
Deep Lemmy I like.
Strider :)
Strider :)
30th Jul 2012 10:19pm
