''In Reply To Hamlet's Soliloquy'' Ii

“To be, or not?” asked Hamlet, tortured soul, a mind transfixed between looming limbo and life's thin, airy hold; this loathsome role, philosophers and poets have played (though some now sleep). Not wealth, nor the lap of pleasure, nor thought, strength, health, youth, nor unbridled power, nor in the lines of this poem's solemn measure can be found the answer: life's but a flower, a precious gift, that lives for a short time still. Enjoy its beauty and brief glory while it's here, for in life all that's sublime and dark in this world is transitory. None can say for sure if the sleep of death is gentler than life: so cherish every breath.