One day we could grow feet
and travel the old world,
I still believe in that.
For don´t you know that it is up to us
to reconcile our present with the past,
that north-northwest is not
the only way to go,
not while there is the possibility
of window seats
and the same view to share.
Where once your castle stood,
my soliloquous prince,
are ruins filled with ghosts´ laments,
and don´t call this another one,
because I want to live.
You are a ruler of the mind,
words bow to your command,
but what brings happiness
are eyes to witness life´s diversity,
and hands to guide and to protect
another´s trembling hand.
I hear the sea outside;
the greedy tide, they say,
will wash it all away,
but then I find that tears are mightier,
first steps towards a clearer view.
To slip, but then to swim,
for it is nobler in the heart
to fight than silently to break.
I should have spoken earlier,
and not in songs of madness,
but in the voice of reason
that can hit like rapiers do,
to wound, but then to heal.
It was my fault; you told me
not to doubt your love,
but I, as women do,
took distance for a lack of feelings,
and you, as is your nature´s custom,
took feelings for a lack of distance,
and only when it was too late
you jumped into my grave.
Too late? It never is for spirits
that were meant to love each other,
my heart is passion and the rest is hope,
and if you only moved,
we could embrace again
and write a better ending for our history.
Adieu for now, my love,
remember me.
and travel the old world,
I still believe in that.
For don´t you know that it is up to us
to reconcile our present with the past,
that north-northwest is not
the only way to go,
not while there is the possibility
of window seats
and the same view to share.
Where once your castle stood,
my soliloquous prince,
are ruins filled with ghosts´ laments,
and don´t call this another one,
because I want to live.
You are a ruler of the mind,
words bow to your command,
but what brings happiness
are eyes to witness life´s diversity,
and hands to guide and to protect
another´s trembling hand.
I hear the sea outside;
the greedy tide, they say,
will wash it all away,
but then I find that tears are mightier,
first steps towards a clearer view.
To slip, but then to swim,
for it is nobler in the heart
to fight than silently to break.
I should have spoken earlier,
and not in songs of madness,
but in the voice of reason
that can hit like rapiers do,
to wound, but then to heal.
It was my fault; you told me
not to doubt your love,
but I, as women do,
took distance for a lack of feelings,
and you, as is your nature´s custom,
took feelings for a lack of distance,
and only when it was too late
you jumped into my grave.
Too late? It never is for spirits
that were meant to love each other,
my heart is passion and the rest is hope,
and if you only moved,
we could embrace again
and write a better ending for our history.
Adieu for now, my love,
remember me.
I'm not shocked you write well, I
know that already, but because it's so breathtakingly good. I think I may like it most of all your poems I've read. I wouldn't say the first two
verses are weaker but from the third verse onwards the words grab you by the throat, in a gentle way 
superb. 
I originally wrote this like an interior monologue or stream-of-consciousness, so there were no stanzas, it was all in one
piece. It might be better that way, actually - if you can still feel it reads like a stream, it probably should be left that way. 
It´s also true that is pretty raw, emotion-wise, there´s a lot more behind this
than allusions to Hamlet, I was actually fighting against my then boyfriend´s depression and our growing estrangement and my own despair with this
piece, I think this poem was actually a birthday present for him. The "travel the old world" and the "window seats" allude to the Orient
Express, it was my ex´s dream to travel on it once in his life, so he would have understood what I meant. "North-northwest" is taken from
Hamlet and stands for the descent into the abyss of darkness, confusion, and madness. I´m portraying Ophelia (and Hamlet) as spirits here who cannot
rest after their tragic deaths, they are still connected, and after reading Hamlet I always thought they would become ghosts, like Hamlet´s father
(from whom I stole the "Adieu, remember me"), and haunt the ruins of Elsinore castle (together with all the others who died, Polonius, Laertes,
Gertrude, Claudius ...). I wonder if Shakespeare thought of this, too. 
Wayne, I always liked Ophelia too, and Hamlet is my favourite Shakespeare play, and my online name has always been ophelia28. 
Feel free to ignore what I say.
And about explaining what a poem of mine is about - I simply enjoy doing that, as my
writing is much more about my feelings than about anything else, and you didn´t mind at all when I explained about what was behind The One in Block
Guilty, you actually thanked me for the explanation and we posted back and forth about Kafka.
I love it when you defend me like this, you´ve done it before, and it touches me more
than you can know. You are such a great friend. 
