Sitting

I wonder as I sit,
Alone,
Music marching towards
The double bar
Like an army of ants
Preparing for the battle
Against the Winter’s siege.
I think of kisses’ passed
And the mournful moonlit walks
That Ophelia cherished
Long before her watery grave.
Maybe if Romeo wasn’t so rash,
Maybe if Francesca had a choice,
Love would last longer.
But tragedies are more
Than just tales
And now our cynical romance
Is a result of unjust fear.
There’s no one to die for love
And what kind of amour has no passion
That can burn a lamp
The whole night through?
But if Romeo wasn’t so rash,
Juliet would’ve never blushed-
And if Francesca had a choice,
Her heart would’ve never been found.
Looming doom begets the lovers,
But he who loved
Dies a happier death,
With daggers cutting his chest
And blood trickling to the ground
Where she first smiled at him.
I wonder as I sit,
Alone,
If he would’ve smiled back again,
Knowing of his fatality.