He turns his head to acknowledge the thud
But finds no soul nor shadow lurking there
It's all so silent. But the wailing moon
Which keeps on screaming, blazing in despair,
Embraces him. He flinches nervously
And wipes off gleaming drops that scour his face
He chose this moonlit cavern purposely
But knows when he's done he should leave no trace
With trembling hands he pulls her carcass down
And smiles at himself, kissing her blue lips
His fingers get entangled in her brown
But silky hair. He chops her head and quips
"Your dying shall not ever do us part,
Your head, my love, is, simply put, the start"
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