In doom and despair
She smiles as if to laugh
A bulge of fangs underneath
Hidden but in plain sight

A pain felt deep
Like a needle piercing
But yet I am calm
As if in the eye of the storm

Blood creeps and crawls
A song on the surface of my skin
A choir draped in crimson
Singing a melody of crows

Fate can be cruel
A love looted
At the point of a stiletto
She knew where to strike

She drove it deep
Into skin, into soul
A chasm so fathomless
What an abyssal *****

I was butchered
A pine box aroma
I can feel her eyes
Piercing me as she shovels dirt

Green grass and
sunny days.
Overhead,
the squirrels play.
Birds in the sun and
fresh soil dug.
A brand new stone
of grey.