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Poetry By: Imuildaeren

An other poem.

Submitted:Dec 12, 2009    Reads: 106    Comments: 3    Likes: 4   

She creeps and climbs hunting her pray for days, waits for the right moment. At night was just such a moment and as the assassin followed her target she closed in and struck. Alice a young girl of 8 lay strapped to a bed, before stood a sight seldom seen. A tall girl in black clothes and a face of bloody bandages stood at the end of the bed. Alice wanted to scream but couldn't but this caused the assassin to get annoyed at such excessive noise. Turning round the assassin came back with a knife and began to cut chunks out of girl. Then she would pop them in her mouth chew thoughtfully and swallow. To Alice it felt like not only was her body being mutilated but her very soul, this what the assassin had felt when she left a house of blood one night to make others feel what i feel.


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