Poetry Diaries 1: Nepenthe

39. The Last Victim

She was the last of them
The girl with the ribbon
Who was staring up at him
Like she's begging to live on

Her eyes wide and innocent
Dilated with unshed tears
Begging him to halt
Oh, how powerful is her fear

One step of his
She returns threefold
When he grabbed her arm
She did her best to bolt

But he was agile and strong
Where she was weak and slow
So she went on with her only plan
And let all of her tears flow

He dragged her to the sitting room
Where her dad and mom are sitting
He sat her in between them
Who lay there dead and unmoving

With wide, terrored eyes
She watched him pull the trigger
And slumped against her mother
While her blood started to sputter

//The Last Victim
Eririn