Death's Tale Poem by Melody Thaila Kuku

The wind whistles,
At the confident fingers
That pry clothes off an obedient Rope,
In a menacing darkness,
Whooosh! Whooosh!
And the light drops from the Surprised hands.

Atmosphere painted sudden black,
Gasps of shocked air,
As a rope romances his neck,
Tighter and tighter,
And cold lips are placed over his,
Sucking away the stubborn Breathe,
That clutches at life,
As the limp neck drops.

Questions whose answers,
Will sail like pigs that pilot the Sky,
Are left for the morrow.
The doer to be unknown.
A lover?
An enemy?
For the freshness of bloody Lipstick,
And the freshness of a kiss,
Gaze at all that beheld.