Arthur

He was a tall muscular man, dark- haired and in the prime of his life. In horror I watched him stumble and fall back, face up onto the green grass. Three knife wounds cut deep, thrown with great speed and precision by an assassin dressed in black in a matching sombrero with silver band. I rushed to his side placing both my trembling hands on his cheeks as I watched his face become pale. My tears fell on his face as I pleaded with him, don't die, please don't die. He couldn't speak to me, but his eyes said I love you before his spirit departed. I laid my head on his bleeding chest and sobbed uncontrollably in disbelief. It was then that I saw her standing there In the corner of the lawn with a slight smile on her face, her soft dress blowing in the breeze, and I knew it was she, his own wife, who had hired the assassin. I heard windchimes sadly sing his epitaph. 8/19/2018 Wind Chimes Poetry Contest~N/A~ Sponsor: Edward Ibeh