My Dearest Husband

My dearest lord, beloved husband,
Before I leave this world, I wish to express the mortal coil within me and confess my sins. I write this not in good tidings but because of unhallowed circumstances and sorrow. I pray my kinsman that you will hear my deep lament; let it resound without malice or enmity. Hark, let my regret rest unto your heart and mind, be sure that you do not mistake my foolishness for my true self.
As I write this, my vision is blurred as unrighteous tears cloud my eyes. I have battled with my conscience for weeks now. The actions you and I have undertaken have played on my conscience, and I am finding it hard to cope. I realize that the path we had chosen was the wrong one, and even though I accepted that from the beginning,

Avarice! Avarice took ahold of my disposition of my soul of both our souls, so strong it was palpable and weighed more than my own weary, mortal soul.
You spoke often of the weird sisters that you had met on the moors. You believed them, trusted them, and possibly, in some queer manner, loved them. I know thou loveth me, but they hath stolen thy heart and pulled thy soul away from the righteous path. I suppose I am also to blame for this.
I grieved more, my dearest husband, when I learnt about the death of Lady MacDuff and her children. Did these poor souls innocent of all crimes have to die? To what depths have our initial deeds led us? Treachery, misery, violence and insanity are the crimes we committed. Climbing through the wreckage of my twisted decisions I realise that together we barred reality and lived blindly. Once our fellow countrymen break through the wall of lies, rage will be unstoppable. All this I cannot bear to witness. So this, my final deed, will spare me from a world I cannot face. All praise to you, the conscious one, who is left to suffer the wound.
I have no choice to add that I know you are no longer your own self, I’ve not seen you this mad before, I know the fault is partially my own, but you are no longer yourself, the man I loved would not destroy his friends, would not kill those closest to him from fear they would undo