Writing
The patriarchy that yearns for the innocence and naivety of Ophelia’s pale, innocent face
pulls her into the darkness and murkiness of the water
The lilac gown of opulent, royal embroidery pulls her deeper in
Clutching the spring of flowers in a frail hand that once held his strong and coarse one
she clings to her rosy depiction of love, unwilling to submit to the reality of her chaotic position in nature
Yet she ultimately acquiesces, as her hooded eyes stare into the sky bearing an apathetic expression of acceptance
The insanity and madness encapsulate her
The bushes and trees and clusters of unknown plants bring a bout of chaos, and yet in the midst of it all, an odd sense of calm lingers in the air
in which she opens her arms in submission and despair
She allows herself to be drowned in the darkness of the water, fulfilling her demise
