Wretched bones that rot in tortuous
yet compelling distortions
contorted to please the
devilish duties of the culprit
meddling red-stained fingerprints
smeared, like paint strokes,
taint the carnage with shades of red
however, the scene is draped in solitude
rendering the skeleton's tale
a forgetful mystery
oddly enough, the empty holes, served as eyes,
fixate their view upwards
though all to be seen
are tiny stars that illuminate
the pitch-dark black of the ceiling
but tears, silver droplets of rain,
splash in puddles
that strike the concrete like invisible bullets
at last! White moths, a plethora of beating wings,
escape the gaping mouth of the ghastly corpse
which keep in mind, has ceased all crying
the body lays, content on the soul's journey
to the next opened door.