At Rest Singelic
Dim light covered the corners of every wall, a quiet
breeze cooled the sweat upon my neck.
My eyes watching ever so closley as she slept, each
breathe she took was another i despised.
Sweat filled the palms of my hands my every breath drew
heavier.
Clutching my fist tightly around the handle of the
hatchet, my silhoutte emerged from the shroud of
darkness.
Sweat painted the pores of my face.
A sense of suffocation from beneath that mask.
I would wake her from her dreams and baptize her in
death.
A flutter from her eyes a glimpse in to mine .
A swing of the blade that would end her life.
Each lash a work of art, a skill that would bring failure
to her weakened heart.
The walls bearing witness to the eliquent design of her
twisted frame.
My thirst for death had left me staring in the eyes of
regret.
I lay beside her running my sinful hands through her
angelic locks, but in that room where death had come lay
the foundation for evil that could not be undone.
