Macbeth

Strange visions my mind does create of evil bad intent, a dagger stood in front of me.
No pure sights that I do see.
By night fall I lack in sleep.
My day filled with torment.

Once upon a time I was in fact so pure of heart.
Now filled with greed.
Now filled with need.
Now lacks a lot in empathy.
Killing’s now my specialty but killing is not art.

My lady once so lady like so feminine so graceful.
So masculine.
No discipline.
Pumped up with her adrenaline.
Throwing forward her javelin of something quite untasteful.

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