Cordelia Won't Come

Good King Lear, what is it that you fear?
Is it your kingdom or your soul that you hold most dear?
Look upon the battlefield, at the blood and the glare
At the demons and the beasts that tear asunder your lair —


Old King Lear, what is it that you fear?
There is no sorrow greater than the lost value of a tear
Your body lies frail, your muscles as weak as your mind 
As you’ve driven away all those who have tried to be kind.


Dull King Lear, what it is that you fear?
Your body’s battle is lost — as for the war, do hear!
The firmament bids you welcome to adorn it as a star
For you’re due any moment to give in to Death’s compelling power.


Craven King Lear, what is it that you fear?
Do you hope for redemption as your end draws near?
There is no forgiveness or hope awaiting you round the bend
No Cordelia around this time to nurse and mend —


You thought her mad, of course, when she spoke sour truths?
You knew her wicked, of course, when she warned you ’gainst those brutes
“No sweetness in such a wretched ungrateful child!”
No sweetness in the shroud you sewed for yourself all your life!
Well, tonight as you lie: your final night
There will be no one to watch and mourn your pitiful fight
For dearest, sweet, kind Cordelia is gone
And as much as you pray, Cordelia won’t come.

Checkmate

Half a year has whittled by

With tears left running until they're dry,
Strewn chess pieces led astray
Fallen knights among them kneel to pray
To embittered gods of chess
Who care naught but to scorn and suppress;
Fighting folly play by play
An ill-fated race for those that stay,
Before the last piece descends
Down that dark road where no more amends
Can halt the flowing of years
Into the dark abyss of my fears.

The king of Will has been slain
His subjects slaughtered across the plain,
His queen forced upon by Fate
Her Will silenced without much debate
For her cries could not have saved
A doomed kingdom from the path Fate paved.

Night has crept in silently
Encircling my heart most violently,
No more tears remain to fall
As despair is let loose from its stall
With half a year more to see
The empty chessboard that's haunting me.