A Planned Murder

It was nothing else,

But a planned murder

His voice echoed in,

Speaker of the truth,

A realisation set into his mind,

As his fear were known.

He panicked,

Looked at his unsettled hands,

That were covered under

The mud of the blood.

The knife he held,

Was let out down,

Making a huge clatter

As it landed to the ground.

“It wasn’t a murder.”

His rationality spoke through,

Unable to avert himself,

He closed his vision

As he knew,

Inside of his panicked heart

It was nothing else

But a planned murder.

Guilt consumed his heart,

His fears were intensified,

His voice had strangled,

It still announced

As he could hear,

Saying , “I didn’t do it. “

He was trapped within himself,

Maintaining the adrenaline of

The shear,

And observing the mortality of

His fear.

He hovered around the bodies,

Glanced around their face,

A face of tranquility and solitude,

Followed by the face of distortion and brood,

Whilst trying to stay himself calm,

The punishment of treachery

Was attained,

He knew their fate was death,

The lovers wrapped against their arms,

He smiled knowing he had ended their lives,

Now in the end,

He knew,

It was nothing else

But a planned murder