There is a blood trail
The smell is in the air
The stalker patiently waits
The prey, unaware at the moment
But the silence sounds a warning
Everything is still, not calm
The tension is reaching a resounding crescendo
You can hear the whispers of the leaves
A fugitive he becomes
He is on the run from his own
The works of his hand speak tons for themselves
Who dealt the fatal blow?
Who sucked the final breath from his lungs?
Blood is on his hands
His own; …thicker than water, he was told
His betrayal, never to be forgiven
He remains marked
Judgment is passed
He pleads, but not to be freed is his plea
But to be given a chance to right his wrongs
from one 'writer' to another this is fantastic....this one and the one before it. i could have sworn you pulled it from somewhere else (and i mean that as a compliment). Reads very mature...i likey! Well done
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