The Attack

Time became a prisoner when first the blow was felled. The fire of secrets kept too long watched as the knife did well. The steely glint cast a shadow as the sun screamed thru the window. There was no terror in her eyes, as the gory scene did know. No warmth pumped through her veins of ice. Her intent clear, her aim precise The deed became her trophy, she swore to never tell. Her hoe was to send his bloody soul to Hell.