The wind was howling.
An angry banshees wail.
The perfect soundtrack
to this gruesome tale.
A story of death,
so wretched and sad,
the blood curdling cry in the night
and a walk that turned bad...
First, we must go back,
beyond the smoky memories,
through faded stained glass windows,
across foggy cemeteries.
Drift into that day,
so many yesterday’s ago.
So many stories away.
It was a cold night.
Thawed snow
under flickering streetlights,
and Amy
was late,
getting cold, irate.
No taxis, nor buses,
just empty streets,
grey, white and bleak.
She trudged to her block of flats.
The stairs were wet,
her feet slippy,
she tripped up the first set,
then slowly took the next step,
out into the frigid air.
The wind swirled and swayed
onto the open balcony walkway.
She was so focused on the ground,
she never heard the sound.
Sneaking footsteps crept,
and out leapt a boy, a teenager.
Knife blade glinting in the moonlight,
gripped so tight his knuckles were white.
Eyes drunk and bleary,
pinpricked pupils steely.
He approached.
Encroached.
She turned,
he tried to grope
that's when the world flipped.
Amy slipped,
and fell
4 stories down.
The blood pooled around,
a sea of red amongst
the white, grey mounds of snow,
mountains,
monuments to the passing of life.
The teenager, quickly sobered,
and saw what he had done.
He dropped the knife.
He felt he couldn't run.
So, he jumped.
Two souls lost
to the grim winter song.
Thanks for reading
Please take a look at my new collection "Torn Pages"
100+ all new poems not shared here before.
https://tinyurl.com/KCtornpages
No comments:
Post a Comment