The Fall of Macbeth

by Elena The Warrior

The last few hours of Macbeth`s life-written in short story/poem form. pleas R/R

Why am I afraid?

The boy Malcolm was born of woman, as was Macduff! So were all men! Yet I do tremble and start at every noise. A cry within. My wife. The sole pleasure of my life is dead. Grief overwhelms me. I must not show it. Yet I have no reason. Not to live, not to love, no, not even to be. But no time for that. I must be a man. A voice. It is Macduff. I tremble, though there is no need.

But there is. He tells me he was not born of woman. I am afraid. Fear turns to rage. I run at him. Something hot in my chest, I look down. There is a sword, buried up to the hilt in my flesh. I fall. Forever, and forever, and forever. There is no bottom. I shall find my wife. Perhaps we shall be together.

I die.