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Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #774804
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.
© Copyright 2003 Tetiana (lizwilcox at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/774804-Lady-MacBeth