Murdered Mary

I stilled the night
wondering endlessly
wether this love fetish
was such a good idea.

My young friend came to me
worried about his young bride
I told the young chap
"Don't worry my boy"
and we went our way.

The night the horrible night
that it happend took my breath
and left me weak
to say the least.

There lies she
a goddess torn and killed
her eyes open in wide terror
of what had befallen her.

Her locket, the one I gave her,
lie shattered on her breast
her lips parted in a scream
and blood welled on her chest.

Her eyes shown white from death
her skin pale and grey
her dark hair matted and ripped
some of it ripped away.

Never have I seen such beauty
and grace all shrived up
no longer the laughter of life
but the tears of death.

I shake my head
sorry to see
that she had to go
and with vengence on my mind
I searched for the murderer.

There my young friend sat in a daze
covered in blood from head to toe
I knew at once what a monster
he had become and I let him go.

With a scream of agony
I buried her the next day
with heartache and death
he stole her last breath
and took my angel away.

Young friend he maybe
but daughter she was to me
and now she is dead
so why did I let him live?

Because I have enough blood on these hands
and no longer want to see
those white eyes of
my angel named Mary.