This was an English homework but I wanted to share it with others so...
Lady Macbeth
My God, I can not believe what I've done. I can still see him lying there, so venerable. Why can I not forget? And the guards, what did he do to the guards? Their faces as they slept were so peaceful, and I coloured their conscience with the blood of the king.I did it. I accused the guards - innocent men, who had families, children. People who cared for them, loved them. And now they will be grieving for their lost ones, wondering if they killed the king whom they loved.
Why can I not forget? Will Duncan's ghost forever haunt me, like my father before him and my child? Why must I live this life so surrounded by the dead? I can not go anywhere with out the reminder of my past, like a shadow, following me always. But no matter how hard I turn and how many times I twist, the shadow always meanders out of sight to torment me. And now the shadow is growing. It is not just a shadow it is becoming part of me, taking over, winding round my heart with its ever tightening grip of coldness and soon I will not care for anything or anyone. I am too week to fight it. My heart is being petrified within me and I can do nothing to stop it. My husband is affected by my shadow too. I can see it darkening his features, turning his heart to stone, yet there is one small piece alive in me that screams with the pain that I have caused and will not let me forget what I have done. I will never forget. How can I?
The nights are darker than before and seem to stretch on into the blackness. Things which hide in the darkness come out and dance around me, screaming and wailing, banshees in the pitch black gloom, never leaving me alone, never, not for a single second. And if I sleep they invade my dreams, burying themselves into the darkest corners of my mind, manipulating my thoughts and feelings, twisting ordinary things into abnormal terrors of obscurity. The day provides little relief. Black clouds litter the horizon, increasing with never ending murkiness. Strange sounds disturb me, piercing the frozen air, shattering around me, only to rise up like spectres, weeping into the heavy folds of my clothes, dragging me down with them to a fiery wasteland of torture and pain.
I cannot hide what I am much longer. The words I told my husband have come back to haunt me.
'Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under it. '
Title: this comes from a line in the play
Please review. Thanks
Annapurna
