The dagger

Walking down the wooden path
her feet make soft sounds
on the planks as she walks.

A dagger in her hand
and a heart
made of stone.

She can't feel you anymore
she can't hear your pleas.
You broke her.

The dagger glints
in the pale light
of a cresent moon.

You broke her spirt
you crushed her soul
leaving behind this creature.

She holds the dagger tight
as she walks
down those wooden stairs.

Nothing's left now
of a spirit that was once
so free and strong.

The dagger contasts
with the blue of her gown
as she moves towards you.

All she is now
is a creature of flesh
with a heart of stone.

The glittering blade
descended into your soft flesh
bathing itself in your blood.

She watches as you die
with an impassive face,
it's all your fault.

The blade is carried away
slick with blood.
The red sheen contrasting with silver.

You took something beautiful
and preverted it;
twisted it to your own ends.

Well now I'm free.