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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Death · #1001604
Just a poem about killing the ones you love
I stand above the crimson stain.
My shadowed eyes are filled with pain.
Lost within this fatal chance.
In this blood, I shift my stance.

Dripping blood from my knife.
Looking down I see my wife.
Streaked with red is her mane.
In a moment I had ended her pain.

Murder never easy done.
Battles fought cannot be won.
Killed the one I loved the most.
Forever haunted by her ghost.

As my conscious runs half wild.
I turned to gaze upon my child.
A wicked smile plays across my face.
For his life I'll soon erase.
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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1001604-Murder