I'm back with yet another post; looks like deactivating my Twitter account proved like an advantage in a lot more ways than I'd initially thought of, eh?! So anyway, I wrote something last night..it was actually a continuation of something I started..err, a month or so ago. It's based on a true incident.
Shattered glass, each shard a product of rage..tainted with blood; every crimson droplet venemous, holding a history of countless bitter years. Satisfaction dances sadistically on his lips, as she trembles with anger..resisting the urge to drive a piece into his heart. He knows he's not only successfully struck a nerve, but has also managed to tug on it sharply.
She fantasizes about feeding him the very shards of glass that glisten with her blood; would the internal bleeding suffice to drain him of life? At least, it would serve to shut him up..end the incessant ramblings of a psychotic mind. His eyes flash with malice, as he derives immense pleasure, taunting the frail shadow of what once was an exotic beauty.
Justice will be sought, & dealt accordingly. No criminal will walk away free, under the pretense of insanity. But, 'til then..the oppressed shall learn to endure oppression in silence; the kind that's enough to render one's senses useless.
Wes Salam 3lykm w R7matullahi T3ala w Barakateh