Memories of Once Lady MacBeth

To bed, to bed Thou will not go; It Is the Dark of a mid-night heart That keeps this creature sustaind’d. The grim of thine eye, the grimmest of Leer. Watching, searching for open wounds, As the Bait is consumed. Within chambered bulkheads conjures The hate bestrode on Victims brought by siren. In her gown, In her bed, From where she unlocks Distain; writes her notes, forth Speaks like poison in Thou ear.

Listen and beware, you can hear The thoughts of this bewitched:

Witches'mummy, maw and gulf Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark,

Root of hemlock digg'd i' the dark,

Liver of blaspheming Jew, Gall of goat, and slips of yew

Sliver'd in the moon's eclipse, Nose of Turk, and Tartar's lips,

Finger of birth-strangled babe Ditch-delivered by a drab,

Make the gruel thick and slab: Add thereto a Tiger's chaudron,

For the ingredients of our cauldron.

Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn and cauldron bubble.

Cauldron of squallier, and cauldron Spent, a witch that Fouls the air with These words she notes. Blood runs black within and without of those hands whose Quill be more like Foil and Dagger. And All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten those little hands.

Heat Oppressed Thoughts

Concussions echo thoughts that crash inside the walls of my mind, leaving me with only a ringing I am unable to wish away. The earth quivers and the walls of my world shatter and are crumbling nearer to me.

I wait for death and yet he only waits; tormenting me. My soul contemplates deserting, I knowing my fate will be swift when he goes. The state of which I’m in could be a blessing not having to live at death’s door. I’ve given up that God will come for me, or perhaps is it that God waits for me too. How could I die with any dignity left if I am to pound on deaths door begging “Take Me! What Are You Waiting For? Take Me!”

Even now the quiet of mid day, the silence, it drives my nerves reckless. It’s the waiting you see. Waiting for the toll, I cannot afford to pay this price just to die with dignity, and yet my beliefs have been so strong to take my life only to lose my soul and honour. When will death come, then wait for me to beg again.

I didn’t have to wait long by any standard, but the eternity tore at my soul. Once again the earth moves, and my patience dies before me. Lost for a moment, I find myself panning over all the decisions I’ve made and wonder which decision was the wrong decision that inevitably brought me here to this point. The preponderance of the quakes has convinced my flesh to crawl from my bones, and in hope alone to escape the torment.

OH GOD HELP ME!

What is that, what do I hear, what is this that I hear now! What are you doing to me now! The distant roar that turns to rumbling, the silence that is over taking my mind. The clouds and dust dissipate and light comes. My sight is returning to me. Has God heard my frantic prayer, has he taken me, did I finally expel any dignity I grasped for?

I am unable to move. What if it is only a trick of my mind? I will not leave this place until I am sure. There is nothing that can convince me that I am not dead. I do not want to look to see.

I cannot be left alone with the silence in my mind, take me with you!

Laid Waste

Time, the moon is down; I hear the clock pounding in my chest.
Objective, heavily I am summoned to the place I was once before.
Morale, never have I acted upon my own accord; and this I must.
Oppressed, breathing is laden; mind a raged, within my thoughts.
Reverence, this is not the time for mercy unto mine enemies.
Revenge, as they have done, do unto them, with great prejudice.
Oath, this my will to make whole once again, let them die traitors.
Will, for my enemies after this day there will be no turning back.

This doom they are not aware; and yet they brought upon themselves.
May God have mercy on my soul for the men I have killed; and for the men I am going to kill.

Act I Scene III

LORD POLONIUS

Yet here, Laertes! aboard, aboard, for shame! The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail, And you are stay'd for. There; my blessing with thee! And these few precepts in thy memory see thou character.

Give thy thoughts no tongue, nor any unproportioned thought his act.

Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar. Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel; but do not dull thy palm with entertainment of each new-hatch'd, unfledged comrade.

Beware of entrance to a quarrel, but being in, bear't that the opposed may beware of thee. Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice; take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment. Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, but not express'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy; for the apparel oft proclaims the man, and they in France of the best rank and station are of a most select and generous chief in that.

Neither a borrower nor a lender be for loan oft loses both itself and friend, and borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. This above all: to thine ownself be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.

Farewell: my blessing season this in thee!

Fatal Visions

Is this a dagger I see before me, is there some point to the lunacy, how comes the feel of this blade warming my senses to deliver the wishes of men of mice. What thoughts you have, that you would be so comfort to know my demise.

The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee; I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Are you not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight? Or are you but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain? I see you now and yet, in form as palpable As this which now I draw.

Dare you I do, I trace the edge alone against the Sternum, poignant This dagger it taunts my senses. In it I rage, thrust outward- as I hold emplace the blade that sneered at me. I wait for the breath of mine daemon to escape. Release thee life, release thou anguish, here in my mind thee appears. You hold grasping my hand, clinching your fist, gasping for Air sweet or foul.

It is done, On this another day a battle won. Left with my delusion the future shows me a WAR that’s won. Dreams of time when all this I see are behind me, but never really over, never really gone.

The Ghost will keep company with me.

Long Ago and Far Away

I had a dream of being loved, that she was only for me. It's been long ago since I felt her presence and even then she was far from me. I don't know what happened to me; only that I lost me in her.

I don't know what happened to her; only that she drew me then went away. I loved her more than my dreams before; I loved her that my thoughts silenced the day. I think about her caressing stare, the touch of her voice whispering in my thoughts. Each day I wait for the words she shared and the dream that one day I would kiss the soothing feel of her hair.

Long ago and far away, what ever happened to those dreams, would those dreams be the end of me, would I dream of love for only me again, will she be so far away that dreams are all she’ll ever be.

Come what Come may

Time and the hour run through the roughest day.
These past days have been filled with rising seas, thunderous clouds, and battering winds. My breath taken away, heart felt weaken.
Finding that I don’t have the strength to hate, and yet I must.

Burning in me the truth of matters, whilst thieves and cheats of cons lay waist to my sanity. Tortured are my thoughts, raging in mine eye of the wrongs I endure, how evil prevails upon this land. The willingness of mankind to corrupt and be corrupt.

Due onto others as due onto you. Ney they say; disdained for thee neighbour breaking the very commandments they are sworn to protect against enemies both forgein and domestic.

Who would have fathomed our protectors to be our worst enemy.

To Be or Not To Be

I ask to be or not to be; that is the question that I ask of thee.
It is one of the theoretical questions we ask ourselves at anytime.
In time of anguish, pain, hopelessness, hunger that our soul to be delivered from our suffering.

I would be better off without my life, or would I no longer feel the pain if I did not subsist. I would not feel anything. I would be condemned to an eternity of despair should I take my own life. God have mercy on my soul; what should I do?

Am I in a debate with God about terminating my existence, or my soul? I am only debating with myself. Who else would be listing? I would be embarrassed of course if anyone were to hear me speaking to myself, out loud, pacing as if I am trying to convince another.

If suicide is painless why then is it not more popular?

What brings me to this end that I would deliberate over my own demise?
I am not questioning why I should die, but how I will die should I conclude my existence. I would not want to be a burden on anyone, h0wever I am considering this for my own peace, and the well being of others will be completely out of my hands.

I have preparation to attend, arrangements that must be made. This will take more time. Where is the spontaneity in committing suicide? If there were a woman in my life she would be complaining that I cannot commit to anything.

Well, well, well… I will have to give this more thought later; for now I am being called to dinner.

Begins This Voyage

I am not aware of the direction my thoughts will take me;

Nor the destiny of where I am to go with the emotions here.

This journey is as much of a mystery as any I have enjoyed.

I only hope it is an interesting mystery, and a successful journey.