Two Sides, One StoryA Poem by LimitalityThe Victim, The Murderer. Whom side, will you take?Murderer. The coldest of the nights, is when the victim never fights. I'll play my aliby, as I watch the victim die. Whatever murder I can threat, will never give one ounce of regret. I'll take the pleasure to my grave, I'll make my sick emotions my personal slave. A thousand blood, that I have spilled, A thousand victims that I have killed. They cringe away, as the lay, helpless in the bloodlust lane. Sometimes I perfer a game, and in the blood would be the pain. A poisonous, malignant, rush, will turn your bones into mush. If I'm really feeling nice, I'll make it as quiet as mice. But for you, my dear, I want to hear, your blood filled screetch.
Victim What did I do, to deserve such a horrible fate, whatever it is, it's much, much too late. His eyes are twisted, full of fury, I really wish he would just hurry. I'm tired of the hopeless fear, will it really get me anywhere? I would scream, but would it help? What kind of hand, have I delt? His bloodlust eyes, my agony filled cries. Why? Why? Why? Why is it I? How come it wasn't the lady ahead of me, was it I, who was the key? My sweetest love, his face in my mind, so soft, so tender, oh so kind. I'll miss everything, this man isn't seeing any other way, my death on my stone will mark today. Five days until christmas, no holiday cheer? Looks like he gets his cheer, out of my helpless fear. Hes coming forward, its more horrid, I bid a farewell to this horrible cruel world, maybe one day I will have my return. I'll reak havec upon him, his life very dim, Hes lunged toward me, there nothing much to see, but to hear, my twisted scream of agony.
© 2009 LimitalityAuthor's Note
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