I thirst for the shrill
For the last noise before death,
Before the knife was fed
And blood suffocated, the last scream,
A last breath cutting the strings of life,
Honoured, for those who do not release a noise ,
Free to go
But as of yet they all did scream,
No woman or man,
when death was near,
They let out the breath that sealed there fate.
The thrill of the ****,
To cut them deep as they screamed,
I didn't discriminate it didn't matter
Rich
Poor
Homeless
They were all prey, that fed the knife,
I came upon you,
With knife thirsting in hand,
I took you with the needle
Jabbing it into your neck,
Sleep momentarily
Waking to find the last moment
Not a man,
But a woman to your last breath,
But you didn't scream,
A puzzled look upon my face,
You all scream,
She looked on, a smile forming on her face,
I the killer felt a pain, sharp in my chest.
The feeling of wetness, I looked down,
A knife protruding from my chest,
I screamed,
My mistake,
Never let out,
As the knife wielded once more, she didn't pity
As my scream cut short,
A throat slit,
I breathed no more, my scream silent
The killer became the hunted,
I let out the thing I craved the most,
And now I lay
Quite,
Bleeding,
As all goes dark
A tear forms,
I died screaming and only one tear did fall.
