Their eyes follow me, haunt me,
Their eyes are cruel and angry and hateful.
Oh, but I know;know their plans, how they wish to hurt me.
No, I will not die! They plan to kill me, but how can they do so, if they are already dead?
And without remorse I give in to the darkness's voice,
It is comforting, reassuring me we will not get caught, that no one will ever know.
No one except us,
And so their life-giving blood will flow.
When I see light again, I am not alone,
Their eyes are beautiful, wide and forever etched in sensational terror.
Their heads are hanging, their bodies destroyed,
And a mockery of a smile curved my lips.
Even so, I still see,
Others are out to bury me, all around me.
Not before I do it to them first!
Because, how can a deceased man or woman ever hope to harm me?