Dear Lady Macbeth

I have been rendered awestruck, my love, my ambition is soon to fall upon me, my greatest dream, the ultimate desire of my heart. How has this come upon me, I hear your lips whisper?

Just this morning as I was strolling through the castle grounds, with my loyal cousin- Duncan, a triad of vulgar old hags surrounded us, thunder and rain in their wake. An air of sinister supernatural powers shrouded our presence; spiritual forms appeared around us. Engulfing us in mystery and confusion, they were waiting for me, they knew me, even beckoned me forwards by name; they then promised me that I’d become Thane of Cawdor and even King one day, it was as if they were god.

Despite Duncan's horror, they pulled at the thin red chains wrapped around my heart, my only desires, despite his emphatic warnings, despite his distrust in them, I needed to believe them. For they could grant the implausible, possible. They were in control of me. I felt their hands contort my heart.

This peculiar visit got me thinking: the only thing stopping me is the existence of the King. His life is the only hurdle in my pathway to be washed in royal blood, to become nobility. Suddenly, Sickeningly, Shamefully murderous images compress my thoughts, regicide takes the reins. Just tasting the thought of becoming king excites every cell in my body, giving me something to live for. These thoughts kept attacking me until I saw Duncan’s face and reality struck me. I won't do this, so don't try to slip your smooth coercive lines down my throat. I need you to know that I will never commit this atrocity for fate will surely twist our future and throw us into the pit of hell.

Love, Macbeth.