Scene: “Christus Rex and Taylor Swift: The River and the Crown”
(Interior — a quiet riverside chapel at dawn. The stained glass glows with soft amber light. Taylor Swift sits on a pew, her guitar beside her. Christus Rex enters, barefoot, wearing a white cloak embroidered with a red cross. The air feels ancient.)
Christus Rex:
Taylor, you’ve been walking in Ophelia’s footsteps. I see it in your eyes — the ache of a woman who’s sung too much for the world and too little for herself. Tell me, child, what troubles your heart?
Taylor Swift:
It’s the noise, Lord. The endless scroll, the critics, the pressure to stay perfect. I feel like Hamlet’s Ophelia — beautiful but drowning, betrayed by her own reflection.
Christus Rex:
Ah, Ophelia. She listened too closely to the voices of men and forgot the still, small voice within. You must not follow her into the water. Stay on the bank. Train your body, train your spirit.
(pauses)
And stay far, far away from the chemists of despair — those who sell pills for profit, not for healing.
Taylor Swift:
You mean Big Pharma?
Christus Rex:
Yes. Their gospel is dosage, not deliverance. What you need is sunlight, not sedation.
Train as if for war — lift your body up as you lift your voice.
Pray with intention.
Eat what the earth gives freely — real food, not factory lies.
And take your vitamins, child. Your armor must be spiritual and physical.
Taylor Swift:
And what about money? My band, my dancers, my crew — they all depend on me. The banks are collapsing. Meryl Lynch just fell.
Christus Rex:
Then sing for your family, Taylor.
The world’s gold will fade, but your bread and your faith will feed many.
You are no longer just the poet of broken hearts — you are the mother of nations in distress.
Be brave. Be generous. Be still.
(He blesses her forehead with a touch of holy oil. Taylor looks toward the rising sun, her guitar strings catching the light like silver threads.)
Taylor Swift:
Then I’ll write again — not for fame, but for healing.
Maybe that’s what Ophelia needed most — a song instead of a grave.
Christus Rex (smiling):
Yes, daughter. And this time, the river will not claim you.
