His footsteps sounded like broken glass,
Each step had a matching hum of dropping blood
With reverberations that sent me crying.
Curtains strangle me as I watch him nearing,
Silken cloth with thorns that kept me in my place.
My movements defined a slow reaping,
A reaping that I have survived long ago,
Thro, all the scars are still visible and far from healing.
His footsteps became louder, my crying was louder,
My throat has dried up from endless sobs.
My weeping was as silent as the dead of night
Yet my tears flowed like a bountiful stream.
He stood in front of me,
Hearing, seeing and breathing my agony
But he's immune to the pain of others.
My eyes were on fire from all the tears,
My throat was burning from hopeless sobbing,
And my courage, I had it, diminished.
End it now, please? I begged in my thoughts,
Kill me now if it's what you want, just do it now.
A crescent formed from his lips, tilted in a grin
And it told me that my suffering will not yet or will halt.
He lifted a foot, crystalline shards sparkled in the dark,
Pointed and red, they were.
One kick to my chest, blood was all over me,
Spilling as the broken glass made its way through my skin.
I was drenched in red, choking on my own blood.
Another kick, more blood less pain
I could hear him laughing, pleased with his sadistic doing,
One kick to my neck, I was dead.
My body was wretched and lifeless,
He carried on with kicking it with his sharded shoes,
Seemingly in a frenzy with more blood flowing.
My poor body
My liberated soul.