Final project for lost monologueBelow is a monologue of fictional character settings in the Shakespeare play, which was created as the last project of the teaching Shakespeare class. The radiance, akin to heavenly grace,
descended from the lofty ceiling, gently cascading upon the stage like angels, casting a divine glow upon us In this cherished realm where plays find my solace and grace. Mine own sanctuary, where crowds would cheer and admire, Each cherished moment, in my memory enshrined, In this treasured realm, where time is engraved. For in this theater, where my dream came true. Oh, the wretched plight of mine, a plea, anger For in this world, gold governs all decrees. To revel in theater, to savor art's charms, I must count my coins lest I face tragedy. Like an ornament, adorning, still and cold, Prince Hamlet, too, doth find pleasure in verse, Composing and reciting at mirthful gatherings, immersed. But the play he asked of bears death fate, Predicting ruin for our theater's destiny. A noble's pastime, gambling, But as love for art grows, more artists are sacrificed. The stage, once vibrant, doth vanish like a dream, As their amusement consumes, art's essence doth deem. But I, through tears and toil, devoted my life to these scenes, The stage is a realm of dreams and fought confrontation. How many suns have set behind the veils as I stood with ardor, Passionate, anxious, and hopeful behind the velvet curtains? Actors, in desperation, their roles they portray, We dance, weep, laugh, and recite lines with might, We must force laughter in times of sorrow's sway, And shed tears when the audience wants to laugh. Behind the scenes, we ready ourselves with trepidation, Awaiting the show's moment, filled with anticipation. For the stage is our realm, where passion unfolds, And as actors, we strive to bring the tale it holds. Like a spinning mandala, it shall endure the test of God, For even if I depart, my writing may forever shine. Round and round it goes, this tale of mine, Enveloped in eternity's embrace, it shall forever twine. As I venture into the realms of the infinite, My love for my country shall resound and transmit. Through ages past and ages to come, My story, a beacon of love, shall never succumb.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Myungja Anna KohArtist Categories
All
Archives
October 2024
|
Proudly powered by Weebly