Faydrah

Rambings, Realities, Thoughts, & Tears
2002-09-05 04:21:43 (UTC)

Death Becomes Her

My lips purse with the slightest blush of crimson,
As the icy blade pierces and, yes, still stings some.
The agony gurgles in my throat,
As you're pleased to see the pain you emote.
In my back you plunge your chosen weapon,
Yet it's in my heart I feel your cold deception.

The dagger severs my vein concurrent with a smile in your
eyes.
Meanwhile I gasp my dying breath and the world hears my
curdling cries.
You've dcided to end my fate,
And perhaps not a moment too late.
For when you're frozen and dead inside,
You have nothing left for time to bide.

Maybe they're just words of thoughtless blunder,
But you never understood how much they could throw asunder.
The truth is your names kill me more than any weapon ever
should.
The way you act and the evil words stab deeper than any
knife ever could.

So whether by blunt objects or sharp comments the same
outcome is sure.
Piece by piece, I'm destroyed, and soon death becomes her.




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