āAll the worldās a stage.
And all the men and women are merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances;And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages.ā
The teller of tales honored in grace as the curtain shuts close and open.
āAt first the infantā
How naive, innocent, and reliant
Curated on his palms are the dreams he has never owned to start about
Heās like a constellation in the sky,
Wandering with hopes that are too quick to be patterned in his early life
āAnd then the whining school-boyā
How obedient yet habitual
Out from the cage of whatās comfortable, he left no stone unturned
The compact shell he has preserved was torn in the blink of time
āAnd then the loverā
How impulsive and full of youth
He forges decisions like how fingers select petalsĀ
In a āwho loves me and who loves me notā game of chance
Heās passionate, outpacing all odds that get in the way
Yet he keeps his weakness in his chamber of secrets
āThen a soldierā
How firm and stern
He has this deep deprivation from his former ageĀ
For being too incapable and frail
He maintains his honor like how tenacious the granite he built in his walls are
āAnd then the justiceā
How experienced yet worn
His boldness rusted him outĀ
From latching to an impossibility to unscrewing in incapacity
āThe sixth age shifts into the lean and slippered pantaloonā
How seasoned and hastened
Waiting for his coming dayĀ
Of bliss and merely repeated ignorance
In his contentment, he has primed and is yet to discontinue playing his part
āLast scene of all, that ends this strange eventful historyā
How requited and satisfied
Meeting the final call and the closing curtain Living his worth and utmost devotion
After a conquering battle of vigor and chink in the armor
Of his wild life and full of valor
āIs second childishness and mere oblivion;Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.ā
Article: IJ Rose Sarabia
Graphics:Ā Jeohan Samuel Aquino
Comments