The Literary Magazine of Westwood High School

Dreamcatcher

Announcements
  • Buy your Dreamcatcher by February 29th to be entered in a raffle for one (1) FREE YEARBOOK!
The Literary Magazine of Westwood High School

Dreamcatcher

The Literary Magazine of Westwood High School

Dreamcatcher

Violent indecision

Rewrite of Macbeth Act 2, Scene 1 soliloquy

MACBETH:
What is this that appears before me?

Gunmetal glistens
with the promise of retribution, of rightful reception, of steel vows glinting
in the dim lights of hell.
Yet its intransience defies vision’s declaration
and leaves me trapped in opaque confusion.
Have I entered the bell jar,
so round the earth curves
around the gravity of my purpose?
The pistol, the crown– it beckons
in bloodlust– it invites my hand, yielding,
to grasp it firm and fulfill
Chekhov’s mandate. The buzzing shroud
of black deceit overlies the land
and casts my heart in blood,
my intent in iron. Trapped– they are all
trapped, to each one, chained
at the bone to dead sleep, dead dreams that dredge
only sour regret; their world
is drenched in darkness. Yet
I can see. I can see now, the promise of the scythe &
of the scepter– of the smoke
rising like torn gauze
from the barrel. It smells like hellfire.

–Quiet! Do you hear? Do you hear
that wolf’s howl promising
treachery? The wild
abandon that, drowning indecision,
winnows the night
down
to the razor edge of the trigger?
My purpose compels silent movement and quieter
execution. And yet–
my mind still roars
in cowardly doubt.
It is true– with this moral fall
I shall rise
beyond prediction–
Duncan’s soul will rise,
too, to the heights of heaven–
will he look
down upon me there? Will
my soul be forever banned
from pearl clouds,
condemned to the depths–
to burn
perpetually
in gunsmoke flames?

–No! I mustn’t think,
mustn’t pause, mustn’t hesitate–

Story continues below advertisement

and yet, and yet–
corroding doubt whirls within–
is this ascension mere
descension poorly disguised?

–and yet, the gun–
it gleams of golden laurels –or is that just
the blood-slick sheen of madness–

–trapped! I am
trapped here, standing
at the gates of hell,
ensconced in shadow–

Do I dare
strike out
against heaven’s chosen?

[a bell rings]

MACBETH:
My breath swells cold–
the crown-gold bell
it summons
–but my coward’s mind
and fearful soul
deny–

violent indecision
betrays my word betrays my wife–
and yet–
I cannot seem to set
my own limbs
into sure motion–

Leave a Comment
More to Discover

Comments (0)

All Dreamcatcher Picks Reader Picks Sort: Newest

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *