A poem about the feelings through macbeth’s head in act V. this explores his feelings in a poetic manner, and is a first copy of my works, of which a success of the article and trust of the sight may let me produce more.
The trees came to Dunsinane.
Those cursed trees;
Trees that would have served themselves better burned,
Then to come to me on Dunsinane hill.
I, top of the world,
Now am cursed to lose my all.
Those cursed trees of Brinam.
All is vanity!
All is futile!
What was it for?
What did I gain?
Was anything worth it,
Whence the trees came to Dunsinane hill.
Candle’s dying.
The idiot’s tale ending,
While the trees are moving closer and closer to my Dunsinane hill.
Death and devils;
The floors should have been dressed in blood,
Before I saw the trees coming to Dunsinane hill.
Fight! Fight!
Lest I shall be called a coward.
End may be now,
Coils of life releasing,
This worthless position I gave my life to, shall be taken,
When the trees reach Dunsinane hill.
The dagger points to me,
Time is now;
Mine is to end.
Make no tear when the trees come,
When all is gone,
I’ll hold my pride,
Cling to my failed ambition,
And fight to the last breath,
When the trees reach my Dunsinane hill.
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