Tybalt, Prince of Cats

I do not belong here,

among the light, the feasting, the
music, and the joy of this new partnership.

The night is my realm, I
yearn for the silence, for the darkness to
become my cloak once more,
and to feel the thrill of the
long hunt, and the furious chase, and
the quick kill.

Perhaps it would have been better had I
ripped the life from his young body
in that beautiful moment of rage,
not permitted my anger to be
controlled, placated, denied,
erasing those red years of feud

on which my reputation was built, where it was
forged in the blood of brothers, cousins, sons.

Capulets and Montagues are reconciled,
and this wedding is testament
to a future in which I will play no part
save as the one who allowed it to happen.