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Happy Dagger

We think of thine and not of thee
We look at only our own sweet misery
We watch the ticking of the second hand; the clock
We sit and see its face laughingly mock
We stare at this happy dagger; its hilt with a smile
And we pray for a death; a release for awhile

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  • Bohemian Complex
    July 13, 2007

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    Yikes.

    A feverish chill has been sent down my spine, the hair standing on end. Death, a cruel mistress. Murder, a hellish sidekick.

    Well penned, my friend.