Walking along a dreary path
holding a bloody knife
used it to show my wrath;
taking a person's simple life.
Destorying the life with a swipe.
Staring as I walk at the cold ground,
licking the knife, the blood was ripe.
Hearing the echo of a screaming sound,
smiling with deep, deep satisfaction.
Continuing to walk, the rain pours down,
waiting, expecting a public reaction.
Watching some ants starting to drown
giving off a smile, a simple smile.
Walks over to the old rotting tree
leaning against it for a while.
Hears a siren and starts to flee.
Dropping the knife and starts to run
to a place where no one knows.
Sighing when arriving and lifts a gun
holding it up to the head as a loud sound goes
off, collapsing to the cold, damp ground.
Blood drips from the bullet wound,
slowly dying hoping not to be found.
addrgal · Sat Jan 22, 2005 @ 02:53am · 1 Comments |