In aqueous realms where shadows entwine,
Ophelia rests, a skeletal shrine.
Lotus flowers, with grace profound,
Gently encircle, in waters unbound.
Above the surface, a visage appears,
Slick hair and antlers, shedding no tears.
In life's cocoon, a tale retold,
A maiden's rebirth, in waters' hold.
To meet Ophelia, a choice to make,
Blessing or omen, the waters quake.
Her gaze, a cradle of fate's design,
A journey's start or an end benign.
