"Shakespeare Lied"

The Bard, ever enshrined
in the world’s collective mind,
dared so boldly to declare
that which I now contest:

Pair of star-crossed lovers
gaze deeply—twilight hovers,
hireling guards on their patrols
To leave, she says, is best

Not all pairs are this type—
one may love without the hype:
connections grand, strangers met
cov’nant friends—both sides blessed

The Bard, ever enshrined,
placing ink in front of lie;
From the sorrow of parting
Nothing sweet can e’er be wrest