A troubled mind whose mouth doth speak in sleep,
A guilty conscience overtakes her thoughts.
Her sanity is lost in darkness deep,
While washing hands to rid them of a spot.
In a fit of the mind, "To bed, to bed,"
She whispers as the doctor writes her speech.
In and fit of the mind, "Great Duncan's dead."
As planned the pow'r at last within her reach.
She speaks the words which should be heard by none
'Cept she and he who have conspired thus far,
While thinking of the deeds which have been done,
Remembering her hopes for none to mar.
Too tortured by the thoughts her mind demands,
She fin'lly takes her life with her own hands.

back to my poetry

This was written about a character in Shakespeare's play, Macbeth. If you've read it, you'll know who this poem represents.