Perspective

A thread.
Hanging white and lone - nipped in the bud
From a sleeve, who's colour is soaked in blood
Blood pouring from where the head used to be

The head lies a foot away
Severed off brutally with woodcutter's ware
Fear filled eyes and tufts of pulled off hair
Forensics will come and find a fingerprint

The print, it was she
It was she who seperated brain from spine
It was a murder in cold blood, so divine
The bouquet she had brought - a grim sobriquet

A flower.
He never thought it through when he deflowered her
Now rape has got its just desserts plus more
The scar on her thigh hurts as she runs away

Scarred.
A tarnished mind manifests into a thirst for death
Ready for her "session" with held breath
Beneath the bed lie cobwebs of a lost life

Cobwebs and the dust settle
On a dark past that mutilated the present
The blow - the libido of evil falls silent
And she lay satisfied, in suicide.