Macbeth

They follow me closely,
Like the night follows the day,
And their pain radiates from them,
Like smoke from a fire.

They moan,
And they wail,
Constantly reminding me,
Of the deed I have done.

At every slight noise,
They scream in my ear,
making me jump,
And swallow my heart.

"My hands are your colour,
But I shame to wear a heart so white."
But I know her heart,
And it's is as black as the burden I carry.

My skin glistens with the crimson,
That is thicker than water,
But in my cruel act,
I have broken my sense of family.

The gold that surrounds my head,
shields my aura,
And hides my fear,
Surely they know.

Day after day,
I find that death is upon my door step,
never for me,
but by my command.

I have murdered sleep,
And while I wake and walk,
I do not fear,
But as I close me eyes they return to me.

My beauty has gone,
her heart to beat no longer,
And with her hands in mine,
I find I no longer need her.

I see my death in front of me,
in the form of a man,
born not of woman,
And I call to him and laugh.