This write was inspired by:
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Hamlet     

Act III. Scene I. — A Room in the Castle.

Queen.
I shall obey you.
And for your part, Ophelia, I do wish
That your good beauties be the happy cause
Of Hamlet's wildness; so shall I hope your
virtues
Will bring him to his wonted way again,
To both your honors.

Oph.
Madam, I wish it may.
[Exit QUEEN]

Pol.
Ophelia, walk you here.
Gracious, so please you,
We will bestow ourselves.
[to OPHELIA] Read
on this book;
That show of such an exercise may color
Your loneliness. We are oft to blame in this,
'Tis too much prov'd, that with devotion's visage
And pious action we do sugar o'er
The devil himself.

King.
[Aside]
O! 'tis too true;
How smart a lash that speech doth give my
conscience!
The harlot's cheek, beautied
With plastering art,
Is not more ugly to the thing that helps it
Than is my deed to my most painted word:
O heavy burden!

Pol.
I hear him coming; let us withdraw, my
lord. [Exit KING and POLONIUS]

Ham.
To be or not to be that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them?
To die: to sleep;
No more; and, by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd.
To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come…

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To Be or Not To Be: That Is the Question

To be the harlot of the king
Or to take Hamlet with sting

Beguiling with a painted face upon
Ever dancing ‘round as if wanton

Or shall I not escape the calumny
Rich colors hiding in a nunnery?

Nay, I shall not conceal myself in ignorance!
Or accept the numb part of the ambivalence
Two minds I am not and my will henceforth

To be known only to myself as a plague
Of the kind that drove Hamlet to beg.

Be it my beauty that drove him mad?
Ever more his soul in despair and sad

That is the question he should ask the air
However much he tries to deny in unfair
Attempts to discredit my honor to amble
Torrid in his wrath of my supposed betrayal

It is only my duty to obey my father’s word
Solicitous of my virtue he hath made it heard

To a nunnery I should go says he;
Hither a jig and gone away with me
Enticement he will allow no more.

Quest of revenge, ‘O but why for?
Undermining our love for ghosts of the dead
Ending our unrequited bliss in shrill dread
Sweet heavens help me not to dwell
Too long as he sends my soul to hell
In disgust, he puts me away from him
Of my own heart, he twists a foul sin.
Nay,

 

I shall not suffer this life through the year…

This is an "Ode of Ophelia" as the love of her life she must forsake and he in bad taste, insults her and mars her honor, and as the story goes, she then takes her own life