Connie's Poem Part Two

The gunshots echoes the end, her chest trembles, its her last breath. She is covered in blood, its splattered everywhere, it seems too much. I ignore it and hold her still warm hand, as her eyes stared up to heaven, I'm wondering what she seen, maybe I'll catch a glimpse of an Angel taking her away. C.P.R. fails, the pulse is gone. I slowly stand only to face the murderer. In his eyes the anger and distress have united in a paralysis of fear and shock. He is mumbling, making no sense, the gun is held tightly against his head. Once he was called Husband and Father, now he is something that is not man. With disgust and fear, I take Connie's gun from his shaking hands. as he is waiting for the comfort of the cold steel handcuffs. Marrage vows were broken and silenced in a few moments of domestic violence. To the man who is not a man, its life without parole behind brick walls till the end.