Before choosing to do so, I looked up the meaning of "essay" on Merriam Webster. I found vital piece of information which approves my free verse poetic structures as a valid type of essay because according to Webster, the term means " an analytic or interpretative literary composition usually dealing with its subject from a limited or personal point of view: A trial or test" or "the result or product of an attempt".
Oh Hamlet, die if you long to die
Or will that weak heart of yours stop thyself?
Filled with contradictions, make your dreamy mind
And grant thy wishes upon yourself.
For is seems impossible for you
To ponder and cease breath eternally.
Perhaps no one will stop you,
Perhaps one will notice the disappearance of your poor soul
Lick thy lips and whisper good-bye to the soils of earth
For easier life may be in the world below
Where no life is spiritual
Join the other sinners of good ol’ earth, down, down, down
Dark, dark, darkness arouses in the blade of truth.
Sleep well tonight, Hamlet, all your
Problems and chaos will take a ride
With the ghosts and perhaps with King Hamlet, your unfortunate father.
And then you’ll realize all the burden hath gone
And off your sulked shoulders which hath carried many thoughts.
If life is as different and puzzling
As thy love for the fair Ophelia,
Poison, dagger or burn your soul
And condemn for everlasting ease
For when death meets you at the staggered door
Which hangs crookedly by two rusted nails.
Painless self and conformity accompanies to the travel down
It is I who declares no judgment on you;
Sleep if you dare,
Wake if you dare,
The abstract world wouldn’t see one missing from the rest,
No power of convincement is thrived upon I
Mostly on your capricious will
And childish comportment,
Might have caused all this.
Repetition perhaps has a place for convincement—
Die if you wish to die, Poor Hamlet.
You said it best, “by a sleep to say we end
The heartache and 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 the sleep of death what dreams may
Have become..”
It seemingly states Hamlet does know best about
Thyself, why waste time living such a dread?
‘tis not a dream, we cannot go back in time
Where the happiest dreams once surrounded…
Become a star in the sky,
Become a grain of sand and be a part of the countless grains
In the vast desert
Of sinners who dwell in deadlocks of the world.
People cannot halt—it is thyself who hath
Volition, of sparing or taking away a life.
Sprout to thyself, heed every deed,
Ease thyself and it should not concern me more,
Farewell to thee who ponders between
All mighty sleep and life.
After all, To be or not to be,
That is the question.
