She travel forth yonder

in misery and woe,

for Juliet took her belov’d Romeo.

When the blazing sun hath set upon

beautiful mountain grandeur,

she lay her head upon

green grass smelling as sweet as

a rose.

Tis Juliet, bright as the sun,

did witness the same as she,

twas Romeo that through both windows break.

Romeo and Juliet; East is the sun and Juliet’s window lies still broken, still old.

As they travel yonder o’er hills of silver and gold,

she doth watch from the hill

cursing sweet Juliet, skin soft and pale as milk.

She hath yet to realize they shall be forever, together in history,

and not in two separate tales, but in the same.

Alas twas Juliet who made her ponder, “What’s in a name?”

On the hill, she lay her head lightly down upon

a pillow of soft silk and shimmering gold, and as her final breaths free’d themselves from her lips, her skin growing cold,

she uttered, “They shall tell the story of Me, Juliet, and Romeo”.