She screams.
No, not her.
Another nameless prey.
A girl in the middle
of her teens.
Youth fresh in her years.
This one had a chance to leave.
Golden key to her 'freedom'.
Her life for her brothers' .
To trap him to his death.
She didn't.
She said her love for her
family forbid her.
What is this 'kindness' you speak of?
What is this 'love'?
Wasn't he saving this girl
from the world?
From its teeth that bite
And
Tear you apart?
Wasn't he offering the only true freedom ?
Wasn't he kind too?
They don't understand.
They never do.
He didn't mind.
Their last minutes are
The most honest ones
in their lives.
Fear, guilt, regret.
Oozing out of their faces,
Like pus from a corpse.
Like this girl's blood from
her slit throat.
He wondered if she could teach him,
These things
called love and care.
He wonder if he would
come to care for her.
And she for him?
YOU ARE READING
Lovers
PoetryTis' a wicked flower. That sucks life. Till its roots are withered. Love. They call it. When like meets like, The end of the world starts, Watering, Their little garden of skulls.
