It was a silent morning on that Tuesday night
When the birds would sing but dawn had not yet met light
It was a silent night on that Tuesday morn,
Where a body lay, untouched, forlorn
Now what the body did was not the truth it tell,
But explain its thoughts, its feelings... what hell!
But now I think, her face truly did stress
What pain to be torn between life and death... what mess!
However the truth I discovered and with much to learn
I hunted the murderer who in return
Told me “the truth is where we stand,
No sum of money of jewels in hand can improve our status which leaves us all on common land.
This is why a successful murder has never been planned”
He fled into the horizons mouth
Which altered the wind to stalk him south
And he met a river bank,
His body slipped and there on he sank
Flowing through the waves of time,
His cold expression crept and climbed,
Until it met the victim’s chest
Where there forever now they rest.
YOU ARE READING
Murders' Relatives
PoesíaEvery one has different thoughts, different minds, but sometimes we must accept that there is only one way to deal with things and thats to live with it! These are a collection of poems written to show that whether we choose to or not there are thin...
