seconds, minutes, hours have passed
tick tock tick tock
she stares at the ceiling
blankly, coldly
one blade, two blades, three, four and more
shaking in agony, drowning in the river of melancholy
an unfinished poetry she is, so deep one can hardly understand
cruel fate, cruel world experiencing death before death
her loudest cry was finally heard;
she was found
loveless, helpless, lifeless