A Collection of Hamlet Poems

Ok... On to the poems!!

The Beast of Revenge

Revenge is a beast,
One I have nurtured and fed,
At my father’s request.

They say the wrong will die,
The right survive,
But what does this mean for me?

When I know not what I am,
Nor what I may become,
But now I never will.
I know not if I am wrong, nor right
Nor if I am some devil’s advocate.

And even now, I can feel it,
My life slowly ebbing away.
Like the warming of soft winter snow
Beneath my feet
And the only constant I remember
As my vision blurs and my soul escapes
Is the loving gaze of my good friend Horatio

Horatio, who has stood by me all my life
who has put up with my tantrums and self absorbed frenzies
who has never betrayed me, nor called me the fool
for indulging, just this once, in grief.

Whilst everyone laughed at my weakness,
Horatio nurtured it. Fed it. Praised it.
Whilst even my own family, my own mother
Though under orders from gods, beings most foul,
She turned against the forces of good,
Rising like the tide to strike
A ship that sailed, survived,
Even in the mightiest of winds,
The most ferocious of storms,
Under the undying hatred of Poseidon.

Yet still she rose,
Rose like the tide against the ship,
Whose crew were not foreign, unknown advisories,
But me. Her own son.
Whose only crime was that of believing,
Of believing in those he loved most.
In Ophelia, his fair lily, beneath which lie
A snake most foul, guiding the lily
To eternal sleep.

Revenge is a beast,
One I have nurtured and fed,
And grown to love, to crave.
Like some feral drug.
I have let it lead me astray,
Into foreign lands of insanity.
Until those lands became my country,
Trapping me in madness.

I have lived the lie,
Became the deceitful beast of madness,
Until the beast became myself,
And the lie, my being.
And now as I slip into eternal sleep,
I can but wonder,
What will become of me?

Will I be doomed to walk
In the purging flames of daylight,
My only reprieve,
The caressing darkness of night?

They say, “The son is like the father.”
And that cannot truer be.
For whilst he burns under the sun,
I must burn, in madness.
I knowest not what will be
Know only what there was,
And with that knowledge I cannot see
Whatever will become of me.










The Demon Within

Whatever didst I do to incur this wrath,
This fiery inferno threatening to engulf my soul?
I stand now on the brink of my own inferno,
A chasm leading into the depths of Hell,
And at the bottom of the chasm?
My wife, my family, and my traitorous brother.

A dragon of strife wakens within me,
Its’ frigid and soulless heart
Beating with mine.
The fire has changed me,
Morphed my blessed being
Into a hell-beast, a demonic monster
Of its’ own creation.

The demon within has taken control,
Saw the snake upon my throne,
And told my mouth to move.
It brought me down to Earth once more,
And raced to set things right.
Yet in that race it failed to think
Of those with mortal sight.

And those with mortal sight must be
As fragile as the fire,
Akin with destruction their thoughts are kept
Away for none to see.

And with those thoughts
Mortal minds doth burn
And awaken the demon within.
That demon of deceit and lies,
That stalks all mortal hearts
Hath found a friend in my brother.

And now my son, whose eyes,
Now aflame with eternal wrath,
Fall upon the usurper.
And on this day
He meets with me,
He vows to take revenge.
But how was I supposed to know,
That revenge would mean his death?








The Tarnished Garden

I glided through my garden of violets,
The crimson petals soft to the touch.
And a smile warmed my face.
This is where I belonged.
I belonged among my violets,
Among the safety of stability.

A hand greeted me
With a small wave,
and a seductive smile.
The hand reached for mine
Tempting me toward it,
Out of my blissful garden.
And against my better judgment,
I took it.

My amber eyes gazed upward,
Into the face of temptation,
Into the face of lust.
And I smiled back.

I took the outstretched hand,
and left my tender garden.
But as I breached the border,
I felt the first pang of winter,
Riding on the breeze.

Much time has passed
Since that day of change,
And now I venture back.
Back to my garden of violets
Back to my garden of faith.

I stop at the gate.
The once handsome sign
Is black and decayed,
As is my heart.

I look beyond,
Into my garden of hope.
But despair, for my hope,
My wonder, my bliss,
Is destroyed.

In the place of my valiant violets
rue and columbine now grow.
In the place of my tarnished marriage,
Only despair and misery I know.

To destroy this poisoned garden.
Mine own self I must slay.
But as I sip that drink of arson,
I see my son,
And wish he’d missed the fray.








A Lily Drove Mad

I was once a lily, fair and pure,
Carefully protected in a father’s embrace.
But now I am left, alone, damaged,
And without his guidance,
I am invisible, a prisoner,
Locked in my own skin.

I know not what to do,
Nor who to be.
And now I fear it be too late.
For already I have been branded.
Not by heated metal nor iron,
But by words and labels.
Words which destroy my confidence,
And labels which deny my words.

I cannot speak,
Lest well they know,
But what I cannot decide.
Whether I be mad or not,
If that is truly such a crime.

They call me mad,
Yet well they know,
I only speak the truth.
And if then the truth be madness,
Why must it frighten so?

The truth is pure as that fair lily.
It causes men to think,
Of all those things they cannot see
As they stand there on the brink.







The Deadly Shadow

I have been a shadow all my life,
Forced to walk in suffocating silence,
To hide behind fake smiles, deceit, and lies.
While my esteemed brother
Walks in the light,
Born of a thousand suns.

I have never been accepted,
By those who love me so.
They speak of Hamlet,
But never me,
I fear they cannot see.

They cannot see the whole of me,
They can’t see past the prince,
Past the man, with the boy’s title.
The one no one will ever miss.

I have been a shadow all my life,
But now I’ve had enough.
I will slay the King,
And take his throne,
To prove I’m up to snuff.

My plan has worked,
The King is dead
But now what shall I do?
My plan has worked,
The King is dead,
So now I’ll take his wife.








A Friend Most True

I bequeath thee, friend, don’t go.
Do not leave me here alone.
I cannot stand these times of woe,
All this suffering for a throne.
With no one here to sit?

So you cannot go now, dear prince
Not once you have won.
For you are the heir, and you must sit
Upon your throne of sun.

But not just that,
I need you, friend.
I need your spirit,
Your warmth, your light.
I need your casual madness,
Your never ending strength.
I need your strength to get you your throne
Which you have paid for, at length.

Will all those sacrifices,
Be for naught,
When you to heaven go?
So I implore you, dear friend.
I beg in earnest now.
Come back to me
And we shall win
The throne that hurt you so.