Wednesday, April 20, 2011

When Fates conspire

*++ When Fates conspire ++*
Bubble bubble toil and trouble
Shakespeare's words reverberate still
A black pot and three crones on a moor
Stirring magicks evil for those who pass
Offering cryptic truths unhindered by
Any sense of deeper morality
Setting in place these wicked truths they cast
A Thane to be and perhaps a King
Enough to turn any man's head about
And if not your own your sons will be
The rulers of these kingdoms ringed by sea
These meddle-some predictions the Fates outline
By their appearance set in train the crime
Plant the idea in Macbeth's treacherous ambitious head
He could be King if the King were dead.

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