In the luring shadows,
Screams, and cries, heard,
She was in front of her dresser,
Their blood on her lips,
Chopper in her right hand,
A gun in her left,
Trapped in her dollhouse,
Her coping mechanism,
Their fate, sealed,
Their lives, done for,
Done, but not yet,
Buried, she wondered how it felt,
Consensual kills, perfect,
People paid, to die by her hands,
To satisfy her pleasure,
To let her live ever after,
In seeing her kind suffer.
The kind that had her killed,
Turned her into a monster,
Took away her life from her,
And expected her existence to still be perfect,
The same ones who demanded,
Releases of her movies in theaters,
Had no heart,
She couldn't help it,
They said she felt nothing,
Cause she must be used to it,
That she was heartless behind covers,
That she was nothing without her producers,
She was a freak, suicidal,
Human kind thought it was luck that a truck killed her.
......but how if she was the truck killer?
YOU ARE READING
A Universe Of Mystery✧
PoetryThe second book for: My Book Of Poetry I hope you enjoyed my last book and that this book will as fun(ish), better and even enjoyable than my last. If you're reading this book first, then I hope you love/like it. This book may include triggers such...
