The Love Story of a Maniac

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
The first real poem I've written, basically. I don't think it's particularly good, but because of nostalgia I haven't heart to trash it or make it better.

It's about someone who went crazy because of his passion.

Submitted: June 09, 2008

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Submitted: June 09, 2008



Nearly Insane!
He charged at his unheeding brother -
His laughing brother talking over the phone
At dangerous speed.
Clutching, a dangerous knife,
Long, sharp, like the Devil's talon.
And with an indescribable sound,
Like that of a tiger's claw slashing on the meat of the prey,
Struck his brother's beating heart
(For that was where he thought conscience lay).
And blood rushed out;
  Red, bright, pure, unlike the dark velvet he imagined.
And blood rushed out;
  To make a pool on the white clean ground.
And blood rushed out;
  Covered his hands and make them filthier.
All the while he clutched the knife and gazed into his brother's eyes,
And thought he saw confusion, innocence in those bulging eyes,
And thought he saw comprehension...
All the while blood rushed out.
Suddenly his brother's mouth opened,
(Perhaps to plead for his own innocence)
And blood came gurgling out.
For just one brief second -
He thought he saw hell's demon -
And went sprawling backwards with a jerk
- A jerk that sent the knife loose -
And blood caked his face.

Then the blood-geyser slowed to a trickle, then

Then it stopped.

And yet the phone was still held in his brother's hand,
And there was a young female's voice:
"Hello? Where are you, darling? Anyone there?"
And with a maniacal chuckle,
A deadly glimmer of the eye,
He picked up the phone from the dead man's tight grip,
And cackled:
"I'm sorry dear, my brother had a heart a attack.
Remember when we used to laugh together?"

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