Rosalind

Why do you wander the woods, Rosalind?

Among yew wonder, never cease to think?

What it is you seek through your wild, mindless dance?

What horrors has fate threw to pull tears so dense?

Do you not cower in wake of creatures here

Every step, breath, beat, you wake, alert, and hear

Snapping of twigs; branches; leaves; groves; bones and skin

Sound guttural, virgin, leaves you touched; unclean.

Emotion plagues your thrumming heart, my dear

And phantoms of yore swirl right above your ear;

They shame you and scold you; putrid cold hearts do.

Deer dart by, frenzied, crazed, veins ablaze, harts too.

Why, Rosalind, do you envy their fire?

Why can't you, sinner, quench burning desire?

Rosalind, Rosalind, dear Rosalind!

What in this listless prey, deer, do you deem

So precious, desired, due for your screams?

They have seen as much as you, more, in a sense;

Deaths of their brethren also reaped innocence.

So why, oh why, Rosalind, my dear,

Do you seek refuge right here, in these woods?