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.

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