Earl of Satan: Art Shakespearean Fine

A modern Shakespearean 'visage' of a dreamer-prince beset by invasion/corruption, yet seeking ever-present Earth-dust.

A modern Shakespearean dystopian 'fable' of civilization ergonomics, loosely inspired by the aesthetics/tone(s) in the excellent film Richard III (Ian McKellen), which I hope you like, 

----

====

The Earl of Satan hath become a great cyber-prince of the, yea, evergrowing darkness of empire's sunset(s) in the modern Earth, as Martians descended with a blueprint for Hell.

EARL OF SATAN (Diary): Yea, I'd been working-cyber as vigilante, masked/suited, presented as scholar, half-mad, for Heavens.

He'd grown to be a blood-diamond operator, telemarketer, steerer, juror, jester, of the clownish Hellfire of the diamond-era, of piracy gone diagonal, of Sierra Leone merged with Notre Dame school-campus gem-merchant stores, wherein the great 21st-Century prince, the Earl of Satan, cast his special 'daylight(s)' for purified distances. He'd have been a terrific poet of medicine, had he not been swallowed in his heart by the need for the vigilante's quill. For now, the great 'shine' of the Earl of Satan was one of tragic romance, of the fallen world, of the 'dream' of chased/fury of democracy. Yea, it's possible!

EARL OF SATAN (Diary): You'd find a girl (or two) on the Facebook-chess, for the social-media, for the classy-dress; it's art.

Yet, in this despicable quest for the Heavens, the great prince the man, Earl of Satan, taking this stand against sectarian capitalism, should like to see the walls of religion-driven portraits of people gone evil, of little lads looking to the sun for signs of bloody murder, in the news, or on the television, or in the supervision of reported democracy. Yea, it's a science!

EARL OF SATAN (Diary): The Martians hath land; they chase me (cyber-chess); I draw stalemate (excellence); pity's sovereign.

OPHELIA: I'm his girl; he's not to be accounted as celebrity; he's a poet of medicine (I say!); he drew stalemate against Mars.

His real gift, this man-prince of cyber-IQ, the 'fantastic' Earl of Satan, harbored a 'cool' secret, and it lay in his soft backpack, and it was simply this and no more but for the yearning of nuns, but they were indeed the water-guns, the excellent 'relics' of a playground-IQ for humanity's evergrowing sense(s) of mischievous innocence. For the Earl of Satan, this was the only bejeweled jewelry left-behind in the empire's world tempting even Martians to seek/destroy/paint!

EARL OF SATAN: No water-gun shall ever 'taint' the long-song of the human factor (Earth) of purified democracy; no Heavens.

OPHELIA: Some might say, my special prince, this Earl (of Satan!) is me thinks a 'cooler' Peter Pan, or a flying-child of Hell.

What will be the end/future of this Earl of Satan, be it in the hands of the merry-men of mischief or the storytellers of the great Martian-chess achievement in stalemate-peace? Will they leave his hands and water-guns behind and find the allotments or sacred remnants of his 'glorious' team? Will the Earl of Satan die in ambition or find the sun of the evergrowing sense(s) of democracy's pan?

====

"Money is everything" (Ecclesiastes)