Evan Miller

Fire

He sits in a room, with a gun to her head.

Bride and groom, both soon will be dead.

He took a look at his girl,

And he thought he could hurl,

Due to the thoughts spinning in his head.

 

He tied her to the bed

Put a bag on her head,

Not a word had she said

To her newly be-wed,

She gave him the eye of the dead.

 

Thoughts of fire,

Thoughts of death!

Needs so dire

His ears became deaf.

 

He smiled as she screamed

As he doused her in gasoline.

He gave life to the fire,

His needs ever so dire

He laughed as she burned in the bed.

 

But one more thing had needed to be done.

He looked out the window and peered at the sun.

He breathed in the air of the country sky

As he silently thought his final goodbye,

And then he laid on the burning bed.

Comments1

  • Monah_Peyt

    I like your writing. The darkness reminds me of Poe. Keep writing! People love reading about the macabre and dark!



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