Is This What Murder Feels Like?

Their screams are ear-shattering
High pitched and loud,
My knife slices thier throats to end the screams
Then hear silence, what a beautiful sound.

 

My eyes watch their bodies as they fall hard onto the floor
The vibrations somehow causes chills to go up my spine,
Their blood stains the floor, a puddle around their heads
The blood is the color of dark cherries, flowing fluently like wine.

 

My knife the weight of a ravens feather
The blade silver, its edge paper thin,
And yet a small object can do so much damage
Piercing and cutting their pure soul and innocent skin.