Twisted Love Poem by Morgan Shepherd

The dead lie still as the mist creeps about;
Midnight falls, turning dead into undead;
They rise, they walk, they spread terror throughout;
Turning friend into foe, blood shining red.

She wakes, startled and shaken by the dream;
He shoves the knife through her heart with a grin;
Her lungs then collapse, drowning out her scream;
He walks calmly away, just one more sin.

The sun rises, forcing shadows to shrink;
She sleeps now, serene, deep down in her grave;
He stands, smiling, on Insanity's brink,
His love for her twisted in his mind's cave.

If he killed her, she could love no other;
Kill her he did, thinking of another.





*note*
This is the first sonnet I've ever written...it's in iambic pentameter.
Any comments, positive or otherwise would be helpful.