Shakespeare's Legacy

Desire make me flee to England's shore, to Stafford where Shakespeare wrote sonnets by candlelight and moonbeams... Let me open the tall front door, to see him in that corner weaving a thought, swiftly turning them into theatrical schemes! Ah, he weeps for a past tragedy he witnessed, making those tears flow on clean sheets that leave him heartbroken and drenched in tears! Oh, those sad moments seem to disappear as he dreams of unforgotten faces he loved... and many say he didn't feel joy but fear! Shakespeare's spirit is not a phantom whose voice can't be heard everywhere it roams...listen, don't fret! Try to glance at his pensive face, read the words of that play he's writing on paper for all to ponder in a persuasive way!