Now thy battle’s won and thy traitor slain.
The good King’s son is princely heir anew
And honor is due to the worthy Thane.
Beware, for envy oft forgets virtue.
The trusting master visits loyalty
Alas! False friend is he, we are to learn
Treasonous betrayal we are to see
Glory dies young whilst thy greed is eterne.
Power, that corrupt foe, brought greed and hate
And whispered in thine ear of blood and death
For three weird sisters vowed he would be great.
Blood will flow from the dagger of Macbeth.
Think not upon’t else the heart will grow cold
For death is the end of such tales of old.
Copyright © Ioana Thornburn-Winsor