Treasure Island

Philip Carter

(London)

Lover Killer


He's holding her hand
And caressing her face
As they look into each others eyes
Now he's gently brushing her hair
From her forehead, where he plants a tender kiss
The distance between their bodies is close
And getting closer
Their arms slide around each other
As if to declare, the other is mine.
Then a cry of pain and a flow of red
Falls onto the floor
A flash of blood stained metal
Glints briefly in the sun
Wide eyes stare upon the face,
Whose loving gaze has now gone cold
Dropping down onto the floor
With a look that just asks 'Why? '
Nothing in my life is a reason
That it should end here and now.
But her eyes have changed
From the warmth of love
To the cold of a killer
She has no motive
She doesn't care.

Submitted: Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, June 11, 2013
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Poet's Notes about The Poem

No idea where this one came from, must be watching too much detective shows on TV

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