It’s time to exchange facts with sweet fiction,
Let all the hopeless realities feign die.
Make the heartaches into actors’ diction
And jump into bed with her pretty lie.
Who will, then, live and who faces their demise?
We’ll show it more poetic than it was.
We will attempt to make mere Fools seem wise,
Victims of Fate, not of the mind’s mad buzz.
As for her, the ink stained Lady Playwright,
She vows to show her heart so pathetic,
Her brain blinded over the senses’ light.
And her eyes dazzled by the romantic.
Her one hope is to make some drama free.
And be half as skillful an artist as He.