Lady Macbeth’s Macbeth

Lady Macbeth’s Macbeth

 

The asphalt glows.

Bituminous no more.

The tar is made of gold.

This is what they told me

When I arrived on these shores!

 

I am out of Bedlam! Fresh!

Skipping flat stones 

In the cyan sea.

Endlessly!

My husband!

Disappeared into the fog of this harlot sea!

I curse him, I curse her.

Still! He is still. Lifeless. 

She is still. On the surface.

Pedals furiously underneath.

So full of fish, so full of life.

Wreaks lives. Mine own.

Taking my lover into her satanic bosom.

 

I was a gal of rivers of might.

Fell for the wrong kind.

A familiar story so far.

Except mine had an edge.

So I edged my lover to golden shores.

 

With asphalts made from fairy dust.

The chase for gold was a cure for addiction 

To opium. Or so I was told.

Yet he faded. Faded. Faded 

 

Until one day; he killed Duncan. Then he was maddened even more.

He threw himself into the sea naked 

In the bituminous night. Then he was drown. Gone was the spirit out of him. 

Mixed heavily in opium.

His folks enraged, embittered;

Tore my hair. My good name  Lady Macbeth is tainted.

My identity is tainted. Until eternity. I was driven to Bedlam.  

 

 

Shakespeare had me so wrong;

My tale distorted

In razor sharp mills of time.

Reached to his ears.

A woman knows her man the best; surely.

The rest is his-story.