Death Served

by David Moss   Jun 15, 2006


Hands to fists
Knuckles white
slicked in sweat and blood

Breaks through bone
Her muscles tear
Releasing life in flood

A scream in mute
Spasm despair
Denied of lifes' last wish

That butcher smiles
And reaches out
To hand her one cleaned fish.

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Latest Comments

  • 17 years ago

    by GreenxTea

    Wow, not what i expected at the end. i love poems with suprise endings like that...the pattern you used worked really well.