ELIJAH HALL – YORKSHIRE
I would throw myself into a million graves,
If it would bring them back –
The souls that once inhabited these skulls
And made light shine out of their eyes.
Yorick’s eyes sparkled like diamonds;
Ophelia’s, like fool’s gold,
So easily tossed away,
So full of life,
We have one hiding under our skin,
Protecting, lonely, soon to be empty.
Filled with organs and beauty;
The vivacity that comes with knowing
That skulls are empty, whether occupied or not,
That life is fleeting – thank God –
That we must shine out of our eyes for longer than we have a face.
Yorick’s eyes no longer sparkle;
He failed the mission we all attempt.
Ophelia’s eyes grew dim even as she lived,
A dimness that confused her into emptiness.
But what of me?
Will my soul die before the rest of me,
Be burnt up by a society that uses fuel carelessly,
As if to be careless is a fashion
And to be fashionable is to lack care?
I will – oh, I know it,
I know it.
I will be swallowed;
If not by the earth, then by duty –
If not by duty, then responsibility,
And if none of those? Hope will take me.
I will be lost before anyone notices.
That is tragedy, my friend:
For no one to notice you die.