A killer walks among innocent vipers,
She knows their scent too well.
Polite and poised, they manufacture joy,
To the sad and lost they sell.
The get-happy scheme works for a few,
She bet on a losing game.
She sowed in her eyes rose-tinted lies,
Nothing looks the same.
She needs no knife, no gun, no axe,
The starless nights are enough,
She's already learnt, don't let bridges burn,
Instead, she made the jump.
YOU ARE READING
Unspoken: The Anthology
General FictionFor all the stories that would otherwise go unheard, unsung, unspoken.
