Betrayal Ii Poem by Javier Falcon

When I thought I could let go,
and let life take its flow,
is when I get hit pretty hard,
taking the shot of a shard,
crimson red seeping from my back,
leaving everything to fade black,
as I hang from this steep cliff,
with my every movement so stiff,
smelling the rancid smell of death,
as I begin to take my final breaths;
but you sit there watching me,
even smile as I seem to plea,
not even extending your hand,
as if you didn't want me to withstand,
so even as I start to slip,
and ever so slowly lose my grip,
you sit there and wait the time,
taking pride in this horrid crime.