Is this a dagger that's right here in front of my face?
The handle t'ward my hand let me clutch you at the base
You're not in my possession, but appear to my eyes,
Can you be real to my touch as you are to my sight?
Made up all in my head, a figment of my mind?
Just floating outta there because I'm fever inclined?
Nah, I still see you there, touchable over and underneath
Just like my own dagger I remove from its sheath.
You direct me in the way I was going, an instrument,
You act like you were already knowing, what you represent.
Are my eyes the fools, my senses the wiser?
Or do my eyes hide the truth: Is it vice a versa?
Splattered all over with drops of blood are you?
On the blade and on the hilt it trickles like tears do.
You transformed as if someone had used thee.
But that's ridiculous; it's only the matter at hand that haunts me.
And now, on the dark side, nature can't live
Nightmares torment behind the shut-up lids.
Sorcery rejoices insipid Hecate's donation
And the sterile assassin who suffers from deformation.
His sentry the wolf, howling the watchman's cry
His speed and stealth hits faster than the blink of an eye.
As though he mimicked Tarquin t'ward his evil commission,
His movements are unreal like a cold apparition.
And feel the difference twixt the hard of the ground and unreal air…
And the pebbles of the earth my location doth share.
Remove the horror from this cold and bitter moment
Although knowing it's appropriate for this event.
And while I talk about the deed, the victim breaths:
Breath gives words to the heat of frozen deeds…
A bell rings.
Let me be gone, I'm done, the signal summons,
Tune it out, Duncan, Your hell or heaven's comin'…
The handle t'ward my hand let me clutch you at the base
You're not in my possession, but appear to my eyes,
Can you be real to my touch as you are to my sight?
Made up all in my head, a figment of my mind?
Just floating outta there because I'm fever inclined?
Nah, I still see you there, touchable over and underneath
Just like my own dagger I remove from its sheath.
You direct me in the way I was going, an instrument,
You act like you were already knowing, what you represent.
Are my eyes the fools, my senses the wiser?
Or do my eyes hide the truth: Is it vice a versa?
Splattered all over with drops of blood are you?
On the blade and on the hilt it trickles like tears do.
You transformed as if someone had used thee.
But that's ridiculous; it's only the matter at hand that haunts me.
And now, on the dark side, nature can't live
Nightmares torment behind the shut-up lids.
Sorcery rejoices insipid Hecate's donation
And the sterile assassin who suffers from deformation.
His sentry the wolf, howling the watchman's cry
His speed and stealth hits faster than the blink of an eye.
As though he mimicked Tarquin t'ward his evil commission,
His movements are unreal like a cold apparition.
And feel the difference twixt the hard of the ground and unreal air…
And the pebbles of the earth my location doth share.
Remove the horror from this cold and bitter moment
Although knowing it's appropriate for this event.
And while I talk about the deed, the victim breaths:
Breath gives words to the heat of frozen deeds…
A bell rings.
Let me be gone, I'm done, the signal summons,
Tune it out, Duncan, Your hell or heaven's comin'…