Beneath the leafless oak she lies.
Her cries now feeble and weak.
As she draws her final breaths the moon looks on.
Her light creating a macabre illumination.
Yellow hair, it's lustrous beauty now dull and caked in blood.
Fingernails in their gaudy red lacquer - torn and broken.
The furrows in the damp earth below her - etchings of terror.
He has already turned his back on her,
He knows it will not be long.
Even in these last moments he is in control.
Leaving a trace of life... a flicker.
A pain filled ebbing away,
Alone - on that cold woodland floor.
Hands and feet bound in gaudy pink twine.
Young life extinguished - snuffed out as casually as a candle.
The wind stirs the fallen leaves on the ground and they dance.
She has a shallow grave of autumnal browns and reds.
For now the trees hold the secret.
Pale slender form,still and silent, hidden in the leaves.

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