Ravenous, uncouth fillled with rage

On a low-lit night sprawled and lost

Stands a king to be, panicked, distraught

Soaring with disgust at fates new page

The new king he must be, a king this dawn

He does not know if King he can be

A man lost between fate and calamity

Never has thought been so rended and strawn

Eve of greatness he seeks and murders to see

__Now stand Ross Thane of Glamis, Thane of Cawdor

Slayer of Macbeth, King of Scotland ye shall be