𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝑷𝒐𝒆𝒕𝒓𝒚| 𝑷𝒐𝒆𝒕𝒓𝒚 [𝑶𝒏-𝑮𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈]

Part 41: The Hand

She felt a hand touch her shoulder,
And when she turned,
She saw no one
But a bloody hand afore her.
She squealed;
No noise was made.
She trembled;
No movement was eyed.
She saw no body,
She saw no eyes,
It was just a hand,
All bloody, all bloody.

Blood painted the hand,
Like it was the last canvas,
Only leaving some spots for dirt to hoard.
She noticed the long fingers,
Slender and cold,
Clumsy and incongruously dirty,
As they held the uncanny looks.
She noticed the scars,
She observed the marks
Left on the poor hand
Some hundreds of years back.

It was bloody,
Craving to kill.
Jealousy of living engrossed the soul,
Burnt it, destroyed it, shattered it.
It wanted to live,
The hand wanted to love,
It wanted to touch,
It wanted to feel,
It wanted-
No, it needed a life,
But the poor soul,
Was stabbed by a knife.
When? No one really knows,
Her death was a secret,
Rumours had it all.

She felt the hand clasp her throat,
A gush of pain ran through her veins;
She gasped for breath,
Yet she remained calm.
The hand choked her,
With time, it ached her.
She was nearing death,
It was the end
And she felt death coax her.
And maybe she was ready.

"You don't live if I don't live", echoed a voice.
"You die, stay here and die even more."
"You die, never live. You just die."
The voice was hoarse with venom,
But there were traces of jealousy,
Of love, of pain and of heartbreaks.
"I'll die", she choked out at last.
"What if death kills you?"
"It's peaceful",
Her last words resonated.

~Ash.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~~•~•~•~•~•~
Happy Halloween, mates!
It's Halloween, so I had to write you guys a spooky poem. ;)

Did y'all watch any spooky movie today? I tried watching Annabelle but then dashed into my room and hid under the sheets. It's not my thing ;-P

If you like it, do vote and comment your thoughts. :)
Also, thank you so much for 1.5 reads and do y'all like the cover of the book? It's done by my dear friend, Riks writing_with_sass. Thank you!