The wind slashed at the window as the rain blinded the castle with a blanket of spray. Inside, there was a dark gloomy room where the dust settled, covering the hard oak furniture in a thick layer of dirt. 

In this time-worn room, Lady Macbeth paced around with her long dress trailing behind her like shadow.Trembling, she clenched her ghost-like fist. Outside an owl screeched as it swooped towards its prey. 

Hark! Peace!” 

Through the shadows, Macbeth came back with blood-shot hands and a depressed look upon his face. He dropped to the floor, covering the hard polished stone in the blood of murder. The moonlight shone on the blood, illuminating it in the dark. 

“This is a sorry sight.” 

“A foolish thought to say a sorry sight,” hissed Lady Macbeth as she stood next to the flickering candle light. 

“Macbeth shall sleep no more, he sobbed. 

“Stop acting so cowardly and return them daggers to the guards. 

“I’ll go no more! I dare not!” Macbeth mumbled. 

He was hunched on the floor in a ball and would not move for the world. Looking down to the blood-stained floor he sighed, “What have I done?” 

As he dropped the murdering daggers, Lady Macbeth snatched them and dissolved into the dark mystical corridor. 

As she was smearing guards with the blood a noise came from upstairs… BOOM! It went again, she rushed back to Macbeth, 

“Let’s get this blood off your hands. 

“Not even all the water in the ocean could wash me off this filthy sight.” 

A draft ran through the empty castle and blow out the candle light leaving them in the depressing dark night.        

Who knows what he sees?

Who knows what the polar bear sees, 

Sheet white paper getting torn up in front of him. 

Who knows what the polar bear sees, 

The world shrinking around his sin. 

Who knows what the polar bear sees, 

The floor break away at his feet like shattered glass. 

Who knows what the polar bear sees, as he collapses in the deep icy sea. 

Who knows what the polar bear sees…?