It's hard to see when the smoke clouds over your eyes and you loose focus as you losing on your time
His shaking fingers move, they rise up to slap the cup out of Horatio's hand. His vision is blurring and Hamlet can actually feel the time slipping through his fingers as if it's sand. He knows that the poison in his veins is killing him any moment and he does not want Horatio to follow him into death. His words sound weak and his voice is cracking as he bends over to whisper into Horatio's ear he should breathe, he should tell Hamlet's story to make sure everyone gets to know the truth. The prince's eyes shut every now and then, the paralyzing tiredness takes hold of him and he can't avoid thinking about the nights he spent in Wittenberg, how he always fell asleep over the material and woke up in his bed the next morning: A happy Horatio sitting at the opposite side of the room. A last shaking breath comes together with his last words ("The rest is silence"), after that his grip on Horatio's collar loosens, his hand slides to the ground and the last piece of sand slips from his fingers.
Horatio remains alone. His best friend has gone forever and he cannot cry. Horatio feels a tremble going through his body, but there are no tears. Just a suffocated "Good night, sweet prince, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!" leaves his lips. For a moment Horatio actually considers disobeying Hamlet's last will, but then there's the sound of drums again and Horatio rises clumsily as if he suddenly turned much, much older. He has to tell his story.
And there's one last thing to do: it's waiting there on you
Horatio is alone. He sits in this room, in front of him there is a cup with a liquid as red as blood. The story has been told, he did what he had to do. And now, as Horatio can't breathe properly in this harsh world, as it hurts more and more, he can finally follow his friend. The drink is mixed with poison of a similar kind as the one which killed Hamlet. Horatio cannot hide the trembling of his fingers as he seizes the cup and drinks from it. The bitter-sweet flavour spreads on his tongue and the cup falls to the ground with a loud clank. Horatio leans back and waits. He waits for the arrival of Hamlet because he knows his prince will come. And right before his eyes shut forever, just before his breath stops completely, Horatio takes a painful breath, because in front of him Hamlet really stands with his hand reaching out and he is smiling. And Horatio can finally, finally follow Hamlet.