AUTHOR'S NOTE: THIS POEM IS ABOUT HOW LADY MACBETH WENT CRAZY AND DIED.
This Night
Stripe the walls a crimson red,
Because of you the king is dead.
Cover the walls a crimson red,
Soon Macbeth shall be dead.
Drip the walls of their crimson red,
Sooner still you shall be dead.
Now the walls are pure and white,
For you, Lady Macbeth, has died this night.