Disclaimer: I own nothing but the rhymes.
"Rugged lover of my nights,
Fair faller from the future's heights,
Whose novel arm and barb'rous dress
Conceal a heart of tenderness
(Or, at least, I think it such:
You certainly don't say too much),
Give, if they are yours to give,
Words by which this wretch may live.
My father's murdered — have you heard?
I got it from a little bird
That flut from purgatory's maw,
And, furthermore, the things I saw
Whilst at the play confirm the fact.
(Unlike the players, I can't act.
My uncle's king, my mother's queen;
I'm but a pawn caught in between.)
At Mum's request I'm playing hooky;
To thee I'm but a helpless uke.
Strength of knowledge and of will,
Despite my wish, evade me still.
And so I turn to thee, my love.
Oh, that thy words my stillness move!
Thou givest honey and the sting
Till prick and sweetness seem one thing.
Thou art, as 'twere, the perfect bee:
Wax, O darling, wise for me.
At thine advice I will not balk."
"When you have to shoot, shoot. Don't talk."
A/N: Inspired by a random pairing from "What's Your Ultimate Fandom OTP?": Hamlet just can't quit the Man with No Name. And yes, I know the line is Tuco's, but by heaven, it works.
This poem is dedicated to Goat, who brought this particular pairing to my attention, and therefore deserves it.