The sound of dripping
was not of tears, but of her blood.
Thick scarlet drops, create a pool,
spreading to my quivering hands.
Kneeling, I stared in disbelief,
the lively face, now ashen.
Her glassy eyes seared into,
the very essence of my sanity.
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 12:17 AM UTC
The sound of dripping
was not of tears, but of her blood.
Thick scarlet drops, create a pool,
spreading to my quivering hands.
Kneeling, I stared in disbelief,
the lively face, now ashen.
Her glassy eyes seared into,
the very essence of my sanity.
