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Rated: · Poetry · Other · #1216331
Pull your own conclusions. (old works)
As she sits alone the sun disappears.
She knows its time,but she just can't do it again.
His knife slips,out of his grip.
Falling, falling,falling,it slides easily through her heart.
He cries out,but its too late,
she had a predetermined fate,
death by knife.
But the knife wasn't real,
her heart was still whole,
but the pain was real,the pain of betrayal.
So she stood up,and walked away,
leaving him to say,
anything he wanted to say,
into the dry, night air.
A new pain filled him now. Guilt,He was guilty,
of making her cry,
of pushing so hard,she still wants to die,
He was guilty of everything,
or so he thought.

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