I. Apparition Wails the Night

A forlorn gaze calling out hazy memories
Refusing to seek nor to speak whatsoever.
As faint spots adorn the dim white sky,
It also taints the same gaze under its might.
                               “O beware, my people, of jealousy;
                                It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on.”

I am merely a visage of a man undone, shivering

Amid the comfort of darkness, howling

In resemblance to a mad wolf, suffocating from loss of its kin,

Yet it is in my greatest interest to confide, and ease you a bit.

        Don't you worry about the monster.

        It doesn't feed on anything; it doesn't want to.

        It only cries.

Cries, it cries. It only cries!

So, don't you ever worry about the monster.
It doesn't even feed on anything; it doesn't dare to.
It only cries.

But ... to mock?

Yes, mock. Mock it does. To mock, it only does!

Befitting that monster to don, is rather the name

Of apparition arise.