Stitching the needly threads,
upon her hard skull and forehead,
blood is like rain as she's bleeding
as the attempted killer is fleeing.

This dream's barely keeping up the pace,
to the nurse's quarters, fumble as we race.
Lady in grey threads her up as I control
bleeding with rags from such an *******

He paces through the storm
****** knife starts to flow,
washed of all of her blood
No-one dares to confront.

A grimly night, startling thunderstorms.
He gets sprayed with hail, tree fallen acorns.