Little Book of Poetry

Murder

(Another dedication to the wonderful series Nevermore by Kelly Creagh)

Hands tightly wrapped around his neck
Flesh ashen
Wheezes like a whistle
Escape his lips.

Cerulean irises
Pleading and begging
Tighter the clawlike hands clinch around his neck
Nails puncture the flesh at the base of his skull
Lifeblood begins to trickle down
The man's back
Pooling on to the floor at their feet.

The talons take across to the front to the man's throat
Removing the blood soaked flesh
Letting it hit the floor with a plop
The creature releases its grip
As the man falls to his knees
Eyes bulging and protruding out of his head
He grips his own throat as if to extend his life
While the seeps out between his fingers
Coating his hands
In his own blood
His last words are of gurgling and wheezing sounds
They fill the now empty room.

With a whoosh
The creature evaporates into a violet mist
Caws from crows can be heard nearby
As the final breathes of the man
Escape his pale lips.