Lips​

As crimson

As the blood

In her mottled veins.



Eyes

As black

As his dark,

Ashen, heart of stone.



Hands,

As cold

As his icy

Gaze, around her throat.



Feet

As dirty

As the ground

He’s dragged her across.



Silence

As he

Lowers her body

Into the shallow grave.

#poetInstincts. 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s