And Tybalt is the West (PR for Juliet’s Capulet cousin)

 


‘But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?’ 


T’is I, Tybalt, son of the morose twilight 

And not Juliet, the raging eastern sun… 


Though the glow of her heralds the  beginning of day, 

My seeping blood doth colour thy skies dark grey 


A love much greater than that which you know 

No shallow, callow youth in fleeting lust’s throe…  


Honour, thy name is now mired in shame 

With the capitulation of Capulet; its voice now tame… 


For duty doth claim a higher seat than love 

As decreed by bloodlines and the good God above… 


Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? I see you not

Only, your pointed sword, now drowned in a familiar scarlet blot 


That red is mine, brought forth to defend a lie, 

Of a love that claims tribute over all that I call ‘mine’ and ‘my’… 


As the tempest in my heart, ebbs and flows 

So must your love bring all and everyone low 


These two households alike in dignity and pride 

This humble Capulet servant, at least; from his duty, never shied… 


Let the blood-stained curtains now fall on this final act

Let this legend of Tybalt transcend from fiction to fact… 


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