Lady MacBeth grieves for her sin |
The glow of the falling sun Crimson on the pristine white My shiver excused A reaction to the snowy cold. For, who could know the depths Unstirred within my soul? The creeping crawl of memory Comes to me, unbidden. Crimson on white, Scarlet-stained pure— Blood on a simple white robe. The rise and fall of kings Happens without help And those who interfere Find only age their gain. Maybe tis better so To age in mind and heart When body may not last so long As to reach its fullness. Crimson on white Scarlet-stained pure Blood on an innocent crown. We knew him, you know. As friend to friend. One of my husband’s, So one of mine. What horror was caught Within my breast To bring a betrayal So deep, unforgivable? Crimson on white Scarlet-stained pure Blood on the hands of a friend. A queen am I Ruler of many Set above others For deeds done by him. My husband, my king Oh, why let me rule him? Allow me to choose? How he betrayed me. Crimson on white Scarlet-stained pure Blood in the eyes of a spouse. My hands are stained Heart gone dead Soul stripped of worth And conscience heavy. The eyes of those surrounding Accuse me in their stares They come—they come to kill me I die before they can. Crimson on white Scarlet-stained pure Blood on the hands of a Queen. |