Twisted

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Twisted

Her hair is golden like the sun

Her lips are ruby red

Her eyes are brilliant shades of blue

Such an angelic head

Her skin is pale as winter’s ice

Her veins a lovely blue

Her finger nails are pink and prim

The dirt is lovely too

Her legs are long and very lean

Though one is out of place

Her feet are hidden inside shoes

He finds it a disgrace

Her clothes lay neatly upon her

But they’re in tatters there

It’s almost as if she’s sleeping

Without any more air

Squelch! He slides the knife out again

And wipes it on his knee

The metal glitters in moonlight

And fills him with such glee.

Finished and clean he looks around,

Admiring his work,

And pulls back on his solid mask

As his mouth starts to quirk.

The ground here is soft and supple

So it moves without haste

As he begins to dig a grave

With a slow, steady pace

As the moon leaves the giant sky

The woman rolls around

Her body tumbles peacefully

Now six feet underground

The pumpkins glow around the street

Whispering words of dread.

Where will his journey take him now?

For now, no one will know.

 

Happy Halloween

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