Dialectical Journal Of Macbeth

Looking up at the cauldron-black sky pouring with rain, scars of flashing light ripping through clouds. Macbeth's screams ran through the muddy patches of the battle field. Staring at the enemy lines his thirst for blood became stronger, With his bloodshot eyes and his screams for victory as he charged with his men right by his side. Storms of arrows attacked the sky blending into the darkness of the clouds, As the running men collided the sounds of the heavy metal armour smashing into each other deafened the sounds of the shouts and screams of the wounded from the front lines, Macbeth who was the most fearless among all strided head high on his horse slashing down at the enemy soldiers. The black stripes painted down his face with excess mud

Macbeth slides his sword out of the heart of the dead enemy lying helplessly on the ground, The lifeless body lay motionless as the boots of macbeth's army trampled over. macbeth has fought and killed many armies before, but this battle was different. He knew this battle was of great importance to everyone, and that made him that much more nervous. Sweat dripping from his forehead mixing with the cuts by the side of his head. The horses were no longer just that, They had become monsters of war. They charged with such fury, that the sound of their hoofs was enough to stifle fear in even the strongest of men. There eyes were no longer that of simple farm animals, they now carried hatred in them. They would charge without

Macbeth then swung again nervously trying to kill the warrior. Macbeth slowly became mad with himself for taking so long to slay the mindless warrior, so he began to try even harder. As his heart was pounding and the sweat was dripping from the tips of his hair down to his face. He swung the sword with perfect precision and hit man right in the throat. This greatly confused macbeth as he had never had this much trouble fighting another in open battle before. His head pounding to the beat of his heart he slowed down as he was losing more and more energy His knees gave way and he slowly plummeted to the ground. Gripping harder at his sword he tried to stabilise himself but it was too late. He hit the ground with a thud and felt the heavy chain mail bruise his chest. His heart rate increased as his head spun, becoming more flustered, he tried to get up hoping to avoid enemy hits. He stumbled up just in time to duck under his enemy's sword as it vigorously came swinging at him. He spun around to face his