'...I-'
The girl staggered and fell, into the only arms left to catch her.
Into the Sardonic Smile.
'-love you...'
Too little, too late my dear.
Now you're MINE.
Oh the pleasure Death takes in his work.
And no matter how loud your scream, no-one will hear it.
Not even her.
That was what killed the girl.
YOU ARE READING
Words In My Head
PoetryThe thoughts and musings of no-one in particular. A collection of short-stories and poems.
