The Murder Of Anna Blake Poem by Melody Thaila Kuku

The moonlight,
Eyes for the darkness,
Eerie wind promising Doubt,
As she walked,
Sucking in creams of Cold air,
And then the sound of Tapping feet,
Slowly, in rhythm.

Fear tickles her back,
As eyes dart Backwards,
Silence,
Quickened pace,
Thumping heart,
And the tapping of feet Prevails,
Faster this time,
The sounds of hurried Footsteps.

Wading through Leftovers
Of Rain’s tears,
And then, a slip,
She struggles to her Feet,
As a warm hand grips Her neck.
In the dimness of the Moonlight,
She sees,
Her hands be warm With blood,
It’s poignant fresh Scent,
Filling her trembling Nostrils.

Her scream, stuck in the throat,
Her eyes closes,
For t'was all she remembered,
As she stood,
At the edge of a mocking cliff,
Held by deathly warm fingers,
That unbuttons in soft rhythm,
Her stubborn blouse.

Prying hands,
Searching, stroking,
Till it settles on the heart,
The numbed body feels now the claws
That grips the centre of life,
Like fine nails,
Piercing deep into the skin,
As an unearthly scream is heard,
In the dead of the night,
And the heart, out like a newborn.

Warm, dripping, red,
So warm,
Trembling in the strong fingers,
As the other half of impatient hands,
Push the stunned body,
Down, down, down into depths,
And the sound of crunched bones,
Embraced by a tired earth.

The screech of an owl,
Caresses the air,
The moon’s eyes dims again,
As death’s messenger turns,
Swallowed in the gaping mouth,
Of a smiling darkness.