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By Ali Date: 2006 Jun 12 Comment on this Work [[2006.06.12.10.32.26247]] |
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Jealousy turned your dark hair red, And there's malice in your music-- A strange and intoxicating tune, The kind that breathes without words, Because who needs words, anymore? You can say anything you want, And you do. Picking apart the subtle (and not-so-subtle) References, you leave a calling card Of uncanny desperation--and it's almost funny That you still care, that you still care enough To write with rage, and the stark certainty That was Othello's undoing. But, are you More sinned against than sinning? A fuming heart Does not a martyr make, and you've only fooled yourself Into thinking that no one gets your game. |