KIller - Your Dream, Their Nightmare

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
a murderer's dreams...

Submitted: April 02, 2013

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Submitted: April 02, 2013

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Devious dreamer

Your torturous fantasies,

Woven under the guise of pleasure,

Where the sinews of your dark heart

Throb with the delicious torment

Of someone else’s agonies.

 

You lead them in with a smile,

Polite conversation.

Stalwart heart, dignity and righteousness

Written on your proud countenance,

Like a Venetian mask,

Frozen there to trick the beholder

Into believing it’s tracings be real.

But one long stolen glance

Would betray your falsehoods

To any with a good eye.

So you dazzle them with your wits

With your dew-drop compliments

That drip languidly from your tongue,

Making the listener moist with their delights.

You enchant, Dreamer,

With the feathers of your words

That caress the ear so lovingly.

And your prey cares not will befall them

Once they are in your throes.

 

The bait has been taken,

A great catch has been hooked.

And you spin your silver trap

Around their fluttering hearts

Tightening the silk noose

Around their necks.

Tighter, tighter still

Until all goes foggy, goes grey

And only then do they begin

To suspect your depths.

 

But you continue to pour

Fragrant but foul flattery,

Only just covering up the rancid notes

In its perfume –

Just a hint of overripe fruit.

You kill like people breath –

Effortlessly and without concern.

Never wondering what could have been,

Never mourning that which you shattered.

Your malignant mind conjures up

Yet another fresh hell,

As if you were school child making up a game.

 

And so it is in that final breath,

That the nightmare of your dream

Is finally revealed.

All the players are now on the board,

Fully aware of the objective of the game.

Even pawns have their worth –

As you look into the victim’s eyes,

You marvel at your reflection held there,

As if it were the most beautiful sight in the world.

The silent eyes, terrified, aghast.

Painted into the memory scopes of your brain,

Playing like a silent film in your dreams.

 

 


© Copyright 2018 Violet Vane. All rights reserved.

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