The Ghosts of my past.

July 10th, 2009-Murderer

The river of tears;

That drips away her fears;

Are locked deep inside;

WIth the things she must hide.

She keeps her eyes straight;

For she’s chosen her fate.

Her beauty’s a mask;

Herself, she must ask.

Is death really worth;

All the pain she’s observed.

She looks to the door;

She knows how to soar.

To the river that lies;

But would her disguise;

Last her so long;

To finish her song;

She weeps in her soul..

She cannot control;

How many must die;

Before she finally cries.

Chests must be plunged;

Before her deed is done.

She pulls back her hair.

Turns on her hypnotic stare;

Looks down at her knife;

And takes a new life.