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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Death · #2081028
Writing prompt about 13
'WACK, WACK, WACK, WACK...
I had started to lose count.
"Goodbye, Mr. Blount."
My hands tightly grip the ax,
I took aim at his bloodied back.
Fury covers my eyes with blood, "Can I do this?" I could, I could, I could.
"One more swing," I say. "I hope to God you'll pray."
I bring it down fast...
This will be the last...
The hit was clean.
...and that made 13.'
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2081028-No-13