And I just stood there and watched her die.
Staring at the girl who had made me cry.
With patience I looked into her eyes,
And waited slowly, as each second passed by.
And I stood there, with a knife in hand,
Knowing that no one would really understand.
And I seemed to be eagerly counting score -
Of each drop of blood that touched the floor.
I remembered her last words so fine and well.
They were Words of regrets; you could easily tell.
How do you believe someone when they tell you -
after they’ve done so much, “I didn’t mean to”?
And even when they look for a way to repent
That doesn’t mean there’ll be no punishment
There’s still that anger that you need to vent
A payback (you may say) for all the torment
I remember fondly how I slit her slender wrists
How she struggled hard with her feet and fists
And I struggled too, with my sharpened blade
Struggled hard until the deep cut was made
I remember her crying, I remember her scream
I remember her face like it a wonderful dream
I remember her eyes; they were filled with fear
I remember counting each drop of tear
And I stood still as she clutched my leg
Paid no attention though I could hear her beg
Why would I want to take her to medical care
Some people are so insane these days, I swear
Didn’t she understand that if I saved her now
It’d be like hitting my own head on a plough
I’d be in trouble if she lived to tell the tale
I’d suffer some heavy discipline, maybe even jail
So, thinking it through I had taken her far
To a deserted cabin under the north star
And I left her there, dying on the floor
Showed myself out and slowly closed the door

Oh such a tale of revenge in these lines and how how such acts are rationalized.
beautifully written… dare one ask what had ‘she’ done to u ;)
One may dare to imagine as well
What would it be that once could do to receive such a fate?
I think everyone has a diff sized fuse… do u mind if i publish it on my blog?
You can reblog it as much as it you want :)