leisha armstrong - Blade

With every swipe of the knife,
I feel my fading life,
The bloody memories,
Red is all I see,
dripping, slipping,
bleeding, heeding,
nothing else makes sense,
But it's in my defense,
I take another swipe,
With the crystal knife,
I feel my stomach heave,
But don't you start to greive,
My arm is wet with blood,
Like a blossoming rose bud,
My mind is claimed by dark,
I hear the angels, hark,
I no it's not for me,
Instead the things I see,
I want to sit and cry,
as I finally die.

leisha armstrong

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/blade-12/