Blood dripped from her cheek,

A steady crimson flow.

The knife had struck her,

and with it emerged a new foe.



Pulling her knife,

She rose with confidence.

She was determined,

each stride full of importance.



Her foe,

armed with years of experience,

stands at the ready.

He believes himself to be imperious.



She fakes a jab,

but instead tries to slice his throat.

He ducks without acknowledging the fake blow.

It is almost as if every step he wrote.



His fist collided with her jaw.

She stumbles back,

Pain resonating from the grinding bones.

She comes back with a thwack!



This time it is his turn to falter.

She gives him no time to recover.

Her knife slices through the skin of his arm.

He was unable to take cover.



The crimson blood reflects in his eyes

A shocked expression creeps on his face.

Then, anger and hate.

He gives her no time to brace.



His attack is quick,

too quick for her to react.

His knife buried in her chest.

She is too stunned to act.



Her foe does not care.

He strikes her down with a kick to the knee.

She falls to the ground.

She refuses to believe what she sees.



She stands on shaking legs,

mustering her lust.

she told herself to do whatever it takes,

for she must.



She attempts one last attack,

but her body is too weak.

She falls to her knees again,

unable to stand with strength so meek.



She speaks her last words with love and care,

Both to her family up there

and her family down here,

“I’ll see you there.”