Clenched wrists until the broken nails made a mark,
rage controlled till my eyes got dark,
Anytime the popped up vein on my forehead would burst was what it seemed like
As we see the bloody metal-glass photo frame broken with every strike.
There lied he near the shattered vase alongside those fresh red roses with the torn out petals that I gave him
his eyes were wide screaming for her succour, even in death his mind was consumed of her.
She looked at him, helpless as I tied her to the chair.
I drove the knife through her heart, for me, which seemed fair.
Now that they both lie in a pool of their blood,
I pick up our metal- glass shattered wedding photograph.
I join each part of the photo that was cut in half.
I hug him with my ear on his chest,
listening to his last heartbeat if it were for me but his last words moaned her name,
as I realise that he remained her’s in his heart’s fame