Gord

2015-03-03 12:00 am

Voice 6:
Who plays Beethoven upon my door?
Truly he be hooven and poor morally,
For a husband just died in my arms.
Knock not or at least form formally,
For normally impatience is paid poor.

Voice 7 (whispers):
Quickly.

Voice 6 answers the door abruptly.

Voice 6:
You were not to arrive until morning!
There we could consummate cordially,
Declaring our love in the afternoon;
Could it be you interrupt my mourning,
Because you could not go without me,
And thus arrived in story too soon.

Voice 7:
I may have come too soon, 
But not over you, my love,
Never have I had such pain.
I request to have it again,
For I feel such remorse,
No man should be slain,
Lest by hand of a horse.

Voice 6:
Quiet, Guards hear the whining of dogs,
Horses not led by hand but by emotion?
Worker of ideals, concepts and notions,
Walking upon my silken floor in clogs;
If disgust in yourself is your only sin,
Can disgrace be upon an innocent facade?