ladymacbeth
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Do I dare call upon what may be fair?
That I am only a constructive fraud.
The smell of blood lingers in the night air,
And I am left by love and lost to God.
This I that may take blame for Banquo's death,
Macbeth seemed like a noble fellow,
He fought hard and seemed mellow.
The witches’ prophecies brought out a different side,
One filled with paranoia and fake pride.
His first murder started his quench for blood,
