The Quiet Storm

Blood stains the curtain and drips from the knife of hatred and passion, it is gripped tight by a love that has no point on livivng without that someone. Heavy breathing is in concealed in a closet and a heart that has broken another shall soon stop beating. Creaking floor boards are the last thing petiful soul might hear on this earth.


Memories of the ocean and the sand and the wonderuful breeze run through the mind of the homicidal soul. Every kiss, every hug, every tear they share is gone. Staggering to find the soon to be former lover he taunghts her with the same memories they once shared.

Once warm blood is on the cold parlor floor and making a permanent stain of pain. It had the same love for her as he does. The storm that brews inside is quiet and can come upon you at any momement, a little sooner than she expected.