For years I have known the story of Henry V as rendered by Shakespeare. I have always loved the main character - Henry V - with an awe-filled respect. I can't remember how many times I have read the play, but every time, at that last line after Shakespeare tells us that King Henry died not a year after returning to England, I break down in tears.

No! I cannot accept it! Shakespeare has never made me mad in any point but this. And so I wrote a poem in response to his shatteringly final "Let this acceptance take."