Standing abruptly, she refused my plea,
And murmured, “With you, I can never be free.”
Then, all at once, resurfaced my rage;
I tried to control it, but was far past that stage.
In anguish and in sorrow, with terrible strife,
I raised my hand, which was holding a knife.
With veritable skills I had perfected and honed,
I nestled the knife deep into her bones.
She began to weep, and beseeched of me, “Why?”
“How could you tell me our love was a lie?”
I demanded so bluntly of her, in good stead,
With grief and yet rage swirling about in my head.
She pressed together her lips and fell to the ground,
I helped her lay down with nary a sound.
I pet her cheek and kissed those fine lips,
I smoothened out her blonde, trembling tips.
I leaned close to whisper into her ear,
“My love, don’t worry, you have nothing to fear.”
All she could do was shake her fair head,
For in a few moments, she would be dead.
In one swift strike, her fate I had cast.
She gasped, and that breath was sadly her last.
I knew that the choice I had made was right,
For now, her rebuff I would nevermore fight.
She seemed so fine, my angel of light,
Lying so still in the dead of night.
I am so relieved that my love will be mine
For now and for the rest of eternity and time.