Her blood spurted like a fountain
from her veins
She could feel her life,
being ripped from her body.
The relief she felt
was more than a pleasurable thought,
it was a scary reality.

No more pain
would she have to suffer.
She would soon be at peace,
to wallow in the sorrow
of those who had already gone
to where she was now going.

The slashes on her wrists
were her ticket to this land.
She hadn't paid for her ticket,
it had already been bought.
By the man she trusted
with everything...
even her life.

They had argued and fought,
until he picked up the pen
and wrote the note
that goodbyed all her friends

He picked up the blade
and grabbed at her wrists.
She pleaded for him to stop!
Why? he questioned.. Why not?
But her pleads came too late.
The silver of the razor
was already turning red,
as the blade sunk deeper
into her skin.

She expected to feel pain
but relief was all she felt.
No more ritual beltings
that left her bruised
and hurting.

This last act of hatred
would end all her pain.
Was it really an act of hatred?
or of kindness?
To release her from his grip
from his evil power
that soon would have had her
slashing her own wrists!


* * * * * * *

Everyone was laughing,
although they were not happy.
They had travelled far together,
although they were not holidaying.

They came here on a mission.
To prevent the dead from living,
they came here to end it,
before it ended them.

They came here to destroy,
those who had destroyed them.
They came here to destroy...
Those already dead.