XXXI
One dull room, one door,
four gray walls,
And one reflection
that deceives.
And where only
two voices brawls,
When truth and lies
heats up and heaves.
XXXII
And one by one
young people came,
One by one
they sat on the chair.
The stories
were all just the same.
Not guilty
is what they declare.
XXXIII
The Paragon
observed them first,
Silently,
from the other side.
By then the door
will open burst,
Once that her eyes
are satisfied.
XXXIV
Around the table
she would walk,
Maybe once, twice
or three more times.
Then finally
she starts to talk,
And question them
about the crime.
XXXV
It's not true,
the light doesn't swing,
And there is enough room
to breathe.
So they would know
if you're lying.
Or you have
nothing in your sleeve.
XXXVI
All four was done
and she reviewed,
Everything that
was caught on tape.
For as of now
she can't conclude,
As the first
saved recording played.
YOU ARE READING
The Curtain Call on The Murder of Mary
PoetryWhen one young woman heartlessly drops, who else could assemble together the shattered pieces to unriddle the story of her demise?
