mortius

Stillness

Black blood grows cold on old wounds,
Main arteries convulse for the last time.

Pain sets in, not with the victim
But with his family, his friends, his lover.
It was a quick end, an easy way out.

A childhood lost,
A teenage stolen,
An adulthood murdered.

Singular in death as he was in life.
All is gone;
A stillness hovers in the air.

Killed with the hand of self-loathing.
Self-torment is a bitch, and only has one end.