The Taker of Angels

As my blade cuts deep in to your silky white flesh. Your blood pours like Niagra Falls on a hot summer day. Blood flows down between your a-cup breast as you fall to your knees. You grasp the open wound that runs from ear to ear. It does no good, the cuts to deep. You try and scream, but nothing comes. Your eyes tear up, sadness begins to fall. I hold my blade to my side, blood drips from the tip. I run my hand through your silky black as a moonless night hair. As you fall to your death, your hair is pulled from my grasp. Killing the angel before me was a quest so easy. I will loose no sleep tonight, fore tonight I dream of the next angel to come. Shawn Gardner 10/11/'17