How many times did the phone ring that fateful night?
Bearing the dreadful statement that her soul had taken flight.
Listening to terrible words, which persistently echoed within.
Swirling in denial, that is not so, I just talked to her on that phone.
Over and over the words played a dark song:
Revenge;
kill the killer was the new task, abound.
Driving me mad, rendering me sad.
Nightmares of her dying alone,
No one to hold her, No one that cared.
Nightmares of guns, blood and death,
Pushing me into a sinister depth.