To be and not to be.
That is the answer.
Whether it is ever noble to fight
or just let go to put aright
all that has been tossed and churned
upon your troubled sea.
The question rubs and leaves a burn,
a stain upon the mind, my friend.
But should you cause your own demise,
you're nothing but an end
and will have only missed a bit
of fortune’s outrage thus,
for slings and arrows fly
no matter who or what.
Better then, to greet the day
with the faith of a blind man
groping for his cup. Take action
when and where you must,
and go instead the road
where one good turn leads you
to another and another
until you find the place
where you might die, then wake
to dream the day. A place
where you might lay your shuffled head,
and find there one who lies beside you
night to night, and coil to coil,
unwinds you, mortal, for a while,
helps you to remember and then forget
all that time lays dead and bare
and brings you fresh to brink of day,
a traveler, back from anywhere.