Framed Innocence
By sinister-dead
A pool of blood I am staring at, says a lot about the act
A few can dream of the ways it ended
For the smell that lingers is a stained scent, slightly faded
The strange view from a broken heart, that never felt so ominous
The sirens wailing outside of a incident that is murderous
Echoes of her screams I can hear in silence.
For once I wished I committed no such violence.
Through the all seeing eyes of truth
I was framed, an unimaginable fate-
The time comes for the gallows, a realisation of the incident but it's
too late...
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Copyright 2015 sinister-dead
Published on Monday, January 5, 2015.
Filed under:
"Poetry"