Windows open, fire ablaze,
the melody danced throughout the room.
Some fingers on keys, some eyes glazed,
All of them destined to doom.
She was in a mahogany chair,
blonde head resting on shoulder.
Strands of hair fell over the pale lace seat,
and over wood that couldn’t be colder.
He sat on a bench, playing the piano,
his back turned away from her face.
His fingers gave birth to song; a sorrowful tune,
As salty tears made for quite a taste.
A single candle, atop the piano,
flickered dangerously away.
He played on, and the breeze died out,
and in entered the strong smell of decay.
Then he rose from the piano, the melody still in his ears,
and slammed the windows shut.
He lowered the curtains, killing their dance in the wind,
and braced himself for the final cut.
She watched silently, not moving an inch,
as he pinched his nose from the smell.
He walked towards the hearth, humming a tune,
and bid the last piece of his lover a final farewell.
He took her head by the golden locks,
and cared not for the crimson-stained lace.
Alas, the last piece to burn, the last proof of his evil,
cast off into the fireplace.
He opened the windows once more,
and played a sorrowful tune once again.
And as she turned quickly into ash,
the curtains danced in the wind.
You can join Unsolved Mysteries and post your own mysteries or
interesting stories for the world to read and respond to Click hereScroll all the way down to read replies.Show all stories by Author:  58809 ( Click here )
Spring is coming |
