I saw the blood dripping
from my fingers, a red dripping
it felt like strawberry syrup, and
it glistened like it was sweet
the hole in the mans chest was
small, a quick stab had caused the wound
and the dullness of the steak
knife was forgotten,
for whatever the weapon, death is painful
his eyes were concrete,
a stony glare, surrounded by caked mud,
stared back at me
my entire awareness shook,
his failing hands grabbed me,
and I screamed all of my
discontentment.

05/27/2002

Posted on 05/27/2002
Copyright © 2026 Travis G Finborg