A Bullet And A Dagger

1,2,3 there comes the dark whisper again,
as she grasps tightly the cold metal,
for she has become the bullet and dagger against her heart and soul.
1,2,3, here comes again the urge bathed in bitter tears of pain,
as consolation flies awayfrom her,
and only her phantoms of disgrace envelop thecorners of her own self.
1,2,3, and the clicking of the metal invading her already perturbed mind,
which gnaws at her own misery,
leaving her at the mercy of her own fading dead life.
1,2,3, the metal is about to spit the deafining music of it all to end,
a melody that lures her into a estate of freedom and redemption.
4,5,6, almost there as her mouth opens to welcome the intrusion of disatisfaction,
welcoming the coldness of the steel lying in her tongue, almost undisturbed.
4,5,6, there comes the dark whispers
and her trembling fingers in position for the deafining melody about to strike up.
4,5,6, her face bathed in red, her body resting awkawrdly there,
soon becoming to ashes for the wind,
for she became the bullet and dagger of her own will, heart and soul...

RQ
Moscow
11/6/2010