BeforeDeath

The knife sits there,
Tired.
Blood drips from his sharpened edge,
Making a pool of redness on the sheet.
He know\'s he did his job,
Of taking another depressed life.
This time in the chest,
Last time,
Arms.
She has the scars on her body,
Showing the pain she\'s gone though.
She finally did it,
What she wanted to do.
Now it\'s silent,
The only noise is,
The blood dripping from the knife into the pool..

drip..

drop..

drip..