Ophelia, how did it feel

when the pressure of the water

crushed your lungs?

Was it sweet? Your escape

of the life you had no choice of?

Your father told you to be chaste

and to give up your love for Hamlet,

and, obedient you were,

you left without giving him an explanation.

But your father's mind changed like the seasons,

and, with his greed beaming in him,

he told you to go to Hamlet again.

And, Hamlet's grief turned him into a madman,

and he drove you away,

told you to go to a nunnery.

He consummated your relationship,

 and now refused to marry,

leaving you without prospects.

And then, he went and killed your father!

Oh, now any chance for him to persuade someone into marrying you - it's gone!

Your brother, all high and mighty,

came back to own you and make you his tool.

And so,

you freed yourself from the claws of men,

who did naught but drive you insane.

We never truly knew you, did we?

All we got were how they perceived you,

and how they stripped you

of your personhood,

leaving you bare,

a shell of who they think was Ophelia.

And so, as what I would argue was a defiant move,

you drowned yourself in sweet song.