Boden,+Kiah,+Jennifer+and+John

Tell your mistress, when my drink is ready, She rings a bell, Then go to bed.

Is that a dagger in front of me, with the handle facing me? Let's see if I can touch it. I can't hold it, but I can see it, Why can I not touch it? Is it real, or is it a hallucination, Created by my nervous brain. I see it, and it looks just like the one I am carrying. It shows me where I have to go, and what tool I have to use. It seems my eyes are either playing tricks, Or my eyes are the only things working. I can still see it, but now the blade and handle are covered in blood. Which was not there before. It is not real, But it shows my eyes what I must do. The underworld's, Nature seems dead, and nightmares haunt sleep. Witchcraft celebrates Pale Hecate's sacrifices, gifts and old murders. Alarmed by guard, the wolf, Who ends his watch with his howl He moves steathly towards his destination with Tarquin's ravishing walk, like a ghost. Through the fround they will not hear my steps, and where they lead, for fear that the stones disclose my movements, And take this present horror from my memory. While I threaten him, he still lives, Because of the cold evil within the threats.

It is done, I must leave. The bell calls me, Duncan shall not hear it, for it is a funeral bell, That summons him to Heaven or to Hell.