SPAKESPEARE'S SKULL

Fear is the burden we weigh against society's path of redemption

SHAKESPEAR'S SKULL

To what's my burden that I ferry then the fear I can no longer bury

I recite poet's words as a puppeteer

With a deadeye hypnotic stare, deep into

the hollow skull of William Shakespeare

Clasping his bone in my clammy palm, only dust leaves its mark as mud

Must I take an oath on his crown, mantle, and prophecy for crow's blood?

The blood spilled measures a man's forked tongue

Who falsely rave those necks snapped while hung

Humanity falls to the burning harvest of war-scorched souls

As Hellfire rains on dreaded scrolls hand carved on chiseled stones

My shadow reflection yielded within the embodiment of this dark orbit

Cross eyes witness outwards from his crown asylum of my own poetic portrait

The asylum is given back to its inmate

Bards of Avon recite orders within my newfound captivity

A blood thirst post to incite words on those who have shamed my humanity

"Post the crows to retrieve their souls

Break their will and gnaw their bones!"

I have become a burden of my own fear, which is the burden I've now come to bear

Whose writing echoes, "I am fear", with deep sorrow, therein, the skull of William

Shakespeare

-E. Croe