Pitch black skies spew death
Fire wood flickers
Orange embers burn mercilessly
Burnt ivory sits within the dance of flames
Mouth agape
My cold eyes watch
Laughing, dancing
The joy of wide fearful eyes staring
Before gutted and dropped into the fire’s tribal dance
Crimson splattered hands
Restlessly tremble
The world a thundering silence
My body burning cold
I killed her
My first born child
Dead by my hands
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