Anthony and Cleopatra

She stood there, her doe eyes full of woe,

Watching over him, a warrior of some significance,

A lover of greater significance, he had been to her.

Where she had feared her death and hidden herself,

He had walked to his, not wanting to live without her.

Ships had sailed, from both shores of that fateful sea.

With guts and grit, only to be made gifts to the goddess.

He had become one too. Nothing else mattered.

Wars were won and lost, always to the one he loved the most.

Friendships foregone in the field where love was forged.

But did it matter? Did he regret when he saw the angel retreat?

No, not at all. All he thought of was to be with her.

Even if he had to walk through the doors of Death,

To hold the warm hands of his queen, he would.

And he did, only to not find her in there.

Like all men stricken with the malady, he would wait.

Brave in battle, splendid with speech, and loyal in love,

Did he know, the devil in an asp would unite them at last?

If he knew she would die by a kiss, would he have dared kiss her in life?

But silence now, for such questions are meaningless.

Watch in the distance, do you hear the music in the air?

In Cupid’s boat they travel, driven by a blind boatman,

Watch as desolate lands bloom, flowered by their songs.

Watch as the doors of Paradise open to them,

For even if it be hell, their love shall make it heaven.