Whispers Of Stratford..... Poem by P.A. NOUSHAD

Iago, Othello, Lear, Macbeth, Hamlet…
Their echoes still walk the earth,
shadowed specters of your quill,
breathing in the hushed corridors of time.

Here, beneath the ancient stones,
you slumber in the Holy Trinity,
yet your words rise like dawn's mist,
unfading, unbroken—whispering eternity.

I stand before you, Bard of Avon,
a pilgrim of letters, a seeker of truth,
where childhood dreams and scholar's musings
converge upon this sacred ground.

Though your eyes are closed in timeless rest,
your voice lingers in the wind's embrace,
guiding me beyond this veil of dust,
where souls are weighed by their words.

With your wisdom, I rise,
soaring past the poisoned air
of greed, deceit, and fractured trust—
warning my son, as you warned the world,
of daggers cloaked in velvet hands.

Yet in your lines, I find refuge,
a lantern in the tempest's eye,
where love flows unchained, untainted,
lifting me beyond narrow walls of division.

Dear Shakespeare, though time may slumber,
your whispers awaken hearts anew,
and here at your grave, I am not alone—
for you live, immortal, within me.