PRETTY CORPSE She felt the cold of his heart before the grasp of his hands, In his mind, her flesh was all consuming, the bitter stench of fear seeped from the pores of innocence, ..... and it smelt so good, Like grannys apple pie; ... made him want to scuttle home and devour every single last morsel. The click clunk of her heels hitting the cobbled stones, .... immitating that of a broken time piece, .. the countdown of a fate she was now nearing, Her heavy breath hit the cold night air, forming thick white intoxicating clouds of smoke, .. as though inhaling her last cigarette on death row, .... her final pleasure before the ultimate pain. Solitary terror accompanied only by a sharp blade and violent hands, ..... hers bound in isolated acknowledgement of a stranger’s all consuming power and hatred for the beauty she was. No man should ever inflict such cruelty, .... not a man, Just the devil with a will and a mind for the macabre. His thoughts focused on a track of destruction, ..... he would bleed her dry .... of tears and of her thick crimson will, A pretty face of a corpse, .... a pale personification of degradation and humiliation, ..... Left with a permanent smile ............. he would slit from ear to ear
Posted on: Wed, 03 Sep 2014 11:24:36 +0000
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