Macbeth

The heart will always see the crime

Which is elusive to the eye;

For hearts can tell, -- truth lies in time.

And time will prove that truth does lie,

And words do bind us to our dreams,

Which then compose the fated plot.

And nothing’s ever what it seems

And nothing is but what is not.

Disgrace will wear a pretty face,

Which I abhor with all my love.

And blood does have that wicked taste

Of which one sip is not enough.

All sense is lost in reason’s battle

In which uncertainty has won

And even triumph’s overshadowed

By darkened fate of Scotland’s throne.

As minutes weave a solid web

To catch the dreamers in their flight,

God, give me room to take a step

To step away and look aside!