DEATH TALKS

HIS END

I stabbed him,and watched the blood run out

Drop by drop,it started to mile about

As streamlets and rivulets of cold red blood

I smiled,............elation filled me like a flood

For i knew this was to be

HIS END.

He went down on his knees

This so much filled me with glee

His eyes glassy,distant,confused

My happiness,his pain.....they fused.

The red,it flowed ,and so did my excitement

To witness the begining of his final retirement

The dawn of his dusk,the dusk of his dawn

The ornament of death,his turn to adorn.

What I commited was very simple

An equivalence of popping a pimple

And out of his chest came out his life.

And it was replaced by a silver knife.

HIS END.