Her screams filled the castle.
Blood curdling, and begging for dear life, as it was quickly being stripped from her.
His axe cut and sliced down at her appendages.
Each finger, cut off, each leg, amputated.
He grinned, examining his bloodied master piece.
'I've done well' he thought.
As the woman he once loved, laid on the table, drifting in and out of consciousness.
He looked her in the eye, every memory of them being together, hit him like a title wave.
He smiled lovingly, but his eyes looked crazed and animalistic.
"see honey, you were right, I would be the death of you"
one lone tear streaked down the woman's cheek as she watches him bring his axe down on her stomach, one last time.
YOU ARE READING
From the Depth of my Subconcious
PoetryTHE HIDDEN PART OF MY MINDS QUERY AND MAKE UP. THIS IS MY WHOLE SELF, THE PART OF ME THAT I HOLD DEAR. THE WORDS, THE POEMS, THE STORIES, THESE, ARE THE REFLECTIONS OF MY IMAGINATION.
