Et Tu, Portia?
by Mariah K Rowse
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
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A Specter Of Misfortune
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Still afraid of the dark,
Not so much can save the light now.
Evil comes full circle in the deep of night,
Where cloaked men move in shadows that hide their eyes.
A conspiracy is shaping…
In the form of a dagger within twenty-three piercing thrusts.
Awoken with a scream,
Dropped to the floor, shaken with fear.
Kneel not, gentle wife.
Even when tears stricken your eyes.
Although these dreams plague your troubled mind,
The rivulets of blood are not your husband’s.
But that of Noble blood, I cannot say…
See how it runs blue?
“Take heed, the soothsayer,
The Ides of March is coming soon… “
Speakest thou of nothing more than the idleness of sleepless nights.
Slumber steals away as many worries consume you.
Do not let it be your end as well…
“Go now, sweet Lucius.
The Senate calls…”