• Poised like a viper, firelight glints on the point,
    Of the tip of a sword, red my blood.
    As I press myself against the ground, the rocks feel like knives,
    The sword comes down, digging into the flesh of my side.
    I grit my teeth with the pain, and lift my tired eyes up,
    To the face I once knew, now after my life.
    His usually soft smile, seems cruel and happy,
    Maliciously saying everything, that his words cannot.
    Raising my right hand up, I reach toward his face,
    His heavy boot comes down, crushing the bones into the dirt.
    The cold metal comes out, the pain flares for a second,
    Memories flood my senses, then are whisked away by dread.
    The blade arcs gracefully, my hand is weighed down with sudden force,
    And in a way to prolong my death, it slips into my heart.
    The pain overwhelms me, I don't even feel my hand,
    As he leans down, his weight on it and his sword.
    He reaches down with his free hand, to caress my cheek,
    Whispering words I know to be true, "I'm sorry, my dear."
    The blade slilips out, and the boot removed,
    He fades from my view, as my lifeblood runs out.