As blood runs down the staircase
echoed wisps of decay,
The night is eerily calm
not how it was that day,
Drip drop drip
the crimson gold,
Follow the trail
a story unfold,
Floorboards creak
from heating pipes,
That keep the blood warm
on these cold nights,
River of red
along corridor,
Slowly oozing
from under the door,
Ghosting through
the solid wall,
You expected to see?
not this at all,
Lips the tinge
of deaths kiss blue,
Eyes of glass
do not see you,
Such beauty in
her deathly grace,
A masterpiece amid
torn velvet and lace,
She lays like
A work of art,
Her hands they hold
her delicate heart,
Across the floor
the crimson gold,
So eloquent in death
yet horrors unfold,
The torn drapes
around her bed,
The broken vase and night light
smashed windows ahead,
A tornado happened
inside of this room,
Plundering it of light
leaving nothing but gloom,
Deaths softly kiss
such beauty and grace,
A crimson river
from splendour and lace,
A delicate heart
cut from her breast,
And in her fragile hands laid
in eternal rest…
.x.
