III (Sham Death of a Minor Shakespearean)
"I die for the glory of the light and
the majesty of Apollo!" – he cried
– drifting slowly, fastidiously,
to the floorboard bedside.
Head flat against the hard oak
neither he nor audience could tell
if it was by his own hand
or by another's, that he fell.
Only that the heavy thunder, the light ringing
washing through his skull was not applause,
but penetrating phantom fingers
of the black – sable – nurse of darkness.